Monday, November 22, 2010

Mellowing down in sweetness

It was more of a delightful desire that easily glided to the summit of a monstrous sweet craving mountain. An enticing sight of snow white pixie dust ( a non craver would relevantly call it glucose); I think it started with that.

It's ludicrous, really; to just walk towards something, when you claim to be in exile, cull out the stuff to as diminitive quatity as you can restrict yourself to consume, yet come back again, and many times after, to do the same.

It's more of a written procedure.To become easeful with yourself in the following days until the moment of realization strikes. You are no longer at the summit but at the peak, with arms open wide, proclaiming with a "Lion King" phonetic, " I'm on top of the world". Well, you probably don't feel that way, cause that head above your neck feels heavy and giddy, indicating that the consumption of sweet(ness) must stop.

Sometimes you just have to walk downhill, this is definitely not the mountain (or hill, in this case) to climb. So with much of the mustering of courage etc., etc., you face the barricades up front and hopefully end up revamped and normal.

Now that you are back to the place you 'should' belong, you are stripped off the "sweetness syndrome" label. Life's devoid of the calorie accumulating fear. There's a relief, you feel the lightness of a tip-toeing ballerina.

And then, on a bright new morning, with sunlight dashing through the glass panes of the kitchen window, the autumn air coils you up and, like a feather, you slide through the doors across the hallway and there you are, staring at a mass at the centre of the table.

It has got that sparkle, like a new shiny toy. Maybe the grounds of heaven just gave in and it fell through.

"It's specially for you. Your favourite, remember?", comes a voice from the kitchen, or heaven perhaps?

Life goes on !

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