Ever had to choose between favorite foods? I have and it’s a bitch. It’s worse than Chinese water torture, you know, when they tie you down and drop a single drop of water on your forehead and leave you in a dark room until you go whoacrazy*. Yeah, it’s worse than that. Though, what’s even worse is when you’re at a famous bakery and you have limited funds and the line is long and you’re next. Your eyes dart from the Napoleon to the tropical tart. Your eyes bite into the kiwi and the mango and glaze. Oh the glaze. But your heart bites on the Napoleon, savors the crème… the pastry… mmmmm. Your mind, oh your poor mind, is torn between your heart and your vision and it just can’t decide. So it goes akljhfakldjfasd (yes, that is the proper real time spelling of confusion).
And when you walk away empty handed, words ripped from your chest, your day ruined, you think, then text to your best friend:
(864): I feel like a lion cub that has been breast fed for years and mom has left. And now I have to learn how to hunt on my own. And I suck.
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