Diet Peace
Love is an ambition. I flower. You know…it’s a symbol of peace, flowers.
The medical path to peace has very few answers about the origin of war. I can appreciate the “screaming into the void” energy of a lot of social media, lately. Young people on TikTok especially, telling me things I did not know. To have more capacity to hear the news is pretty astonishing given the nature of information today.
I had a clear moment with someone today after a meeting in which captial-D-Diversity was the central topic. In the clear moment after the meeting, we chuckled about the cringe factor of that space. We laughed because we know there’s fuck all we can do about it. This is our life. What am I going to do, get angry?
I was once stopped on the street by an elderly black woman who cautioned my letting undergarments show beneath my skirt, my sleeveless shirt—deliberate designs of the piece of fashion I was trying to pull off at the time. I am laughing thinking about the moment because there was fuck all I could do about my self-image. I would never wear a sleeveless shirt now.
I am dieting. I know how heinous and irresponsible it is to diet, but I am calling it what it is. Not a detox, not a health scheme. It’s a pure attack on my gut instincts—no meat, no alcohol, no caffeine, for as long as I can take it. Cessation intervention. Sounds good, right? I’m deciding to eat less of everything else too.
It makes me feel in control, and on a pathway to peace. It astonishes me every time, how the medical path to peace does not address the origin of war. Easier to starve than be broken etc. Maybe I am a young person after all if I’m still doing this shit to myself.
I wish I could wish you peace. But you do not want flowers.
