Gluttony. The friend of the dispossessed, amorous and dark succubus you haunt me and taunt me with your cakes and creams and fried stuffs. Eat, is all I want to do when you visit; like queen of the night you swoop and howl and scream my hunger, insist I eat and eat and eat. Out, out damn rot, damn urge, damn need.
The need for food is radically different from gluttony, the latter structured not at all by hunger but by the compulsion to eat structurally. The process, once started must be finished, cannot be abandoned, must be taken to its end, the empty and reproachful dish. It approaches like a little tiny itch, a small and delicate ripple across the skin and finishes in shame shame shame on me.....
An itch can lead to a wound and still we scratch it. Holding back a seething intensity, we finally succumb, and itch again with greater fervour, avarie and elation. Until we notice we make the injury worse then take a kicking of shame from our super-ego. Gluttony in part is self styled masochism.
Well acquainted with gluttony, I unwittingly stumbled across a way to moderation in an attempt not to procrastinate. From now on, i say to myslef, its a single coffee, a single cigarette, a slice of cake with a greater gradient as i cut the angle. A way to moderate intake then get back to work, rather than linger and wallow. I am jealous of those who are naturally disposed to the moderate life.
Yet gluttony, if we read its 'Marcus Aurelius' in its simplicity is inverted o.c.d, it has no similitude. The obsession to order and control meets masochism and becomes a zahir.
Posted by: Warren | January 11, 2009 at 02:56 PM
that's not the point of this post: it's a joke
Posted by: blahfeme | January 11, 2009 at 04:52 PM
Joke: yes, that's why I offered a heavy peppering of self parody in the comments, probably wasn't successful!
Posted by: Warren | January 11, 2009 at 11:14 PM
Ah... sorry. My mistake.
Posted by: blahfeme | January 11, 2009 at 11:16 PM