This week's word is “Raw”:
Since reaching the age of maturity and freely expressing my own wants and desires, I knew one thing for certain; I am not a man afraid of taking the road less traveled, of hitting some rough patched along the way, and getting dirt in my teeth. Now I know the powers that be frown upon my course of action, stress the diseases, consequences and preach prophylactic measures, but it just is not the same. To follow that course means that I am destined to a life of decreased texture, connection, and the intimacy that comes with the natural feel, taste, and smell, the way our distant forefather did it. Right or wrong. I know the risks, sleep well at night, and enjoy the rush that comes with casting caution to the wind. Fuck the establishment, I say, it is my body, and I can do as I please.
So with my middle finger displayed proudly to the world, I say cut, clean, and cook that shit all you want; but me, I want my veggies right out of the ground, raw as a fresh wound.
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1 comment:
But do you dare to eat a peach? :o)
You are very passionate about your veggies - nice take.
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