Food makes me happy.

Like…legitimately happy.

I’m not thin. My deep love of ice cream and all things fried prohibits it. (And my extreme aversion to exercise probably doesn’t help.)

But food… Food is home. Food makes me feel safe and happy and warm and loved and comforted. Which is a little weird, considering that it’s food.

And, although food makes me feel amazing and happy, that’s why it depresses me that eating is so wrong. Why should I feel guilty for consuming things that make me feel so happy? What’s so wrong about food tasting good? Why do I starve myself of these delicious dishes, just to attempt to mold myself into society’s idea of “beautiful”?

Fuck you all, I’m going to eat whatever the fuck I want and like it.

Also, I’ve decided that I’m going to contract diabetes. That way, I can die of chocolate.