I used to think that my friend Wonko was truly crazy, because once he told me that it's too much of a pain in the ass to have to eat. Anything. At the time, my organs were all functioning properly, so I said, "No way, man, there's nothing like the satisfaction you get from a full belly. I love eating."

Then, my organs quit working properly. My diet has been severely restricted (the two staples, coffee and pizza, are big no-no's), I've lost weight that I didn't have to loose in the first place, and we don't even know what's wrong yet. I now rather resent the idea that my body needs constant feeding, especially since it has to be some slight variant of the same mush I've been forced to subsist on for the past month. I mean, honestly, doesn't it just take up huge chunks of your day? The concept of eating itself is not abhorrent to me, indeed, prior to this malady I heartily enjoyed sitting down to a good meal. I just don't think it should be mandatory, that's all.

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