When you enter an eating competition you must gorge yourself, this is how you win, and the goal is to be a winner.

So you eat, and eat, usually swiftly because someone may have a bigger appetite than you. You don’t typically swallow (pro tip, helllloooo). You consume.

As a kid with magnanimous love to give, and no parent to give it to, you are stopped before you start. Imagine 10,000 horses running all together at once then suddenly, a wall. They all pile on to one another, a heap of defeat and broken bones. The end. It creates blockage, a longing in your chest. You start to stuff your feelings with food, your belly grows, then you become less useful to society, a commodity no more. In reality you were just trying to love. So the belly becomes a relic, this layer of fat nobody can appreciate, this flab that is whispering “I tried to love, and it was rejected, so I became a physical form, the words that would never be received took hold to my body and now I am in physical form, a rejection made real”.

Fat is nothing more than potential lost, love made to waste.