Life is my restaurant. There might be Biriyani times. Rasagulla times. Laddoo times. Bland veggie times. In different degrees. Maybe. Maybe I could turn bland veggie times to ossum veggie curry times! (like roasted brinjals and ladyfingers which makes me mouth water) There might be too spicy chilly times that I cant even swallow it down cause it tears me up, makes me cry. (not nsfw you perverts)
There are so many dishes out there. Circumstances. People's opinions. Good , bad, ambiguous and confusing. Maybe the good lasts for too less time that I consider it as bad now and vice versa for bad.
Everyone being entitled to opinion and their own free will also means me being exposed to stale food and fresh food. Sometimes I don't even know until I get salmonellosis or food poisoning. Or soul poisoning.
Which is why I got to be picky.
Choose what's healthy for me. Shut myself from the unhealthy words and opinions.
But wait. What if I can't and life is 98% filled with it?
This is when I gotta dehydrate it. Remove the water from it and pathogens wont grow.
Someone told me that I was fake when I knew I wasn't one. Dehydrate it. Were there times when actions and words didn't match? Not toward the person who has said it, but in general? Perhaps its time to bring about some action to it. Sharpen myself.
Another alternative is to take the unhealthy food and give it for plants for nourishment to soil.
Meaning be creative about it. Make something from it. Make a memory from it. Maybe make laughs and recycle it.
Its in my mind what I could do. What I could control to the things I could control. My beliefs and notions.
Sometimes the opinions and advice had good intention but somewhere along the cooking process i saw it as meh and bland, sometimes as rotten and stale albeit it was healthy. Somewhere along the tone and words misinterpretations happened. Rip. I'll mourn for you with my eulogy which i shall present right now.
To all of you foods I have misinterpreted,
You who have been my nourishment but I refused to have you
you who were bitter herbs to me when there was sweet stem in you
I shall mourn and grieve and pray this decreases over time in the memory of you. you shall not be forgotten, as regrets you'l remain begotten through sands of time.