Insidious Adaptation

Gun laws, something of a debate these days. After all, when inanimate objects start to take over, killing hundreds a year, I too have my concerns. If only there was a way to understand the workings of tools that have evolved over the past few decades into these killing machines. Unfortunately, I have not come across the self-workings of a handgun, much like a hammer or the stinging steel of a blade. Therefore, I will attest to what I do know a little about, being human. Though my experience in humanism has only been 32 years, I have spent much time in this brain of mine, and in the last fifth or more helping others with what they present in their mind. This makes me nothing of an expert, however does allow me to contribute a perspective with intent to assist those who try to control. Those are left tired and angry, spreading soiled words on their children and so on. One apparent, and safer route to travel down is that of ice cream, or more specifically, ice-cream-type foods, a, ...

It’s 11AM, the day after moving. The day after I broke routine, ate various protein bars, drank way too much caffeine, consumed no vegetables, no fish, and I fear, not enough water. After all, it was a long day from 3:30AM, for I like to write, until 10PM, most of which was spent very active. At the end, to celebrate the end of moving festivities, pizza! That’s right, carb-rich, greasy, fat-laden, thyroid stimulating, za. A favorite fast food in this household, for it is fast and it is technically food, a perfect cap to an imperfect day. A way to resign the mind into a binge of sorts and into a relaxation as I convince myself, “I deserve this.” The pizza, the energy drinks, the lack of this or that, or the too much of something led to a 16-hour fast to help the system get a break from the strain of poor choices. This was hour 15. I was starving. I came around the corner of the kitchen, catching a glance of the oven timer. It was behind a few minutes, not a huge deal, however whe...