Unfiltered Commentary: People are choosing to be very hungry, and I am alone

AlexS
Kirk Smith/THE REVIEW
Alex would rather be happy than hungry.

BY
ASSISTANT MOSAIC EDITOR

I just changed my cover photo to a meme of Oprah that I made myself. It’s from her Weight Watchers commercial. It’s her with her arms out, and underneath reads: “I eat bread every day.”

Oprah, one of the most successful women in the world, eats bread every day and for that, I love her.

These days, people are bats— crazy. With spring break coming up and spring outfits making appearances in dozens of packages sent right to our doorsteps via online shopping, girls everywhere are seeming more hungry, less happy.

Me, I eat bread every day because, well, I am Oprah.

Bread makes me happy.

Or as Oprah says: “This is the joy for me.”

I sit back with my bread, pasta, ice cream cone and continuously watch my friends and people around me attempt to overload their bodies with vegetables and air, hoping that they can fight through those snarling voices yelling in their stomach, or better: that their stomach will go away entirely.

Hey, I’m all for feeling great and being thin — I wish I could devote myself to “thinness” as a priority, but I love bread. I love chocolate. I love ice cream. I love pancakes with the M&Ms in them, and I really love to not count calories and not exercise. So, I think that this hobby of “thinness” that everyone is amped up about is just not one I’m readily able to adopt.

And, I think I’m O.K. I think I have accepted that I don’t have the time between my many meals a day to fit this hobby in. You see, I’m pretty busy eating. I think that I’m going to survive, you know, not following the trend, but that’s me.

So, what about you? Are you going to survive? Yeah, you. You have adopted this “thinness” hobby that I just can’t seem to grasp the concept of. It eats at you while you watch me eat. It haunts you when you lay in bed, your eyes are tired but your stomach is so hungry and sleep seems like something peaceful, if your stomach ever quieted down and let your mind be clear. But no, you can’t fall asleep because your mind is heavy, searching its database for some reminiscence of what doughnuts taste like right out of the oven.

I worry for you. I want to give you some bread. You know — metaphorical bread.

Stop for one second — don’t pick up any food or anything, I’m not asking you to abandon this hobby you’ve grown so attached to. All I’m asking is to imagine — just imagine if you could eat one thing right now. If you could cheat on this hobby without it knowing, what would your poison be? Would it be Belgian waffles covered in chocolate drizzle or some caramel cone Häagen-Dazs? Would it be — dare I say — bread, maybe dipped in olive oil or handed to you over greasy counters in the form of pizza?

Imagine it. Now, are you hungry? Do you hate me? You don’t even know me to hate me, but you might know that what I’m saying isn’t so bats— crazy, like you are clearly being. Go feed yourself. You look starving. Indulge. You are young, your body can handle it. In a few years, yeah, maybe toss that second doughnut to the side or pass up on the bread basket before your pasta comes to the table — but for now, relax man. “Thinness” can be achieved without starving yourself or feeling miserable.

People these days. They’re bats— crazy. Stop being some basic, crop-top-wearing, high-jean-short-sporting, alcoholic-diet, aged-out teen and eat some high calorie goodness. Trust me, you won’t hate it.

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