Sugar and the Aftermath

Sugar has made a return to my diet in the most abominable, obtrusive, and occasionally cheeky way. Ice cream, peanut butter, the bright white cubes that dissolve at the bottom of my coffee-- I can just feel the sweetness flooding into my veins until it suddenly turns into sedentary deposits of anger and fat. (The two simply must go hand in hand, right?? Repositories of sugar-turned-vitriol nestled among the blithe joy coursed through by ...celery and arugula?)

I wish that same sweetness that lingers on my tongue remained in my words, thoughts and actions, in my every deed. But too often I succumb to the sharpness and ache, the guilt left behind with the knowledge that I've overindulged, I've spoken out of turn, I've said too much.

So the ache in my head from the sugar I shouldn't have consumed is simply a foil for the ache that follows me into the eleventh month of exodus-- or so it seems tonight.

Sugar (The promise and hope of the unknown):

The Aftermath (realization of Exodus):