I forget, sometimes, the pleasant disorientation that accompanies hunger. The subtle high of malnutrition? The slow shock felt in the body when the body does not receive the food it is used to receiving?
(Very different, this, from, say, a low calorie, vegetable diet. A salad at mealtime instead of nothing at lunch or a smoothie at lunch, for whatever reason leads to a hard edge to my personality. I sharpen. It is—unpleasant.)
Light-headed, but not at all uncomfortably, at my desk. Reading Bluets and thinking of writing. Posting to my blog, which, of course, is something I am unable to do.
Sometimes I think about not eating for a week just to see what would happen. Sometimes I think about not sleeping for a while, too. Just for the heck of it.
Then I accidentally eat a sandwich. Or take a nap.
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Me? I'm me. What's your excuse?
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Rose Hobart by Joseph Cornell
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