Dear Mr. Fast, Pre-packaged, Processed Food: Et al.
I know it’s taken me a long time to write this letter, and I’d like to make excuses, like I’ve been busy lately (like ya, the last 25 years or so), or I really don’t know what to write, which is pretty much true, but I’ve been making excuses all my life, and it’s time to quit that shit and just move on with things.
And speaking of moving on, I think it’s time we had a little talk.
Now don’t get all emotional on me, this is hard enough without all the drama.
And please know that it’s not all of you I’m done with, but truthfully, it’s most of you.
I just don’t have time in my life for any more junk. Crap. Garbage.
I’ve had enough, and we’re breaking up.
Now, hear me out. What turned the page for me was all the late nights we spent together, just you and I snuggled up on the couch, with the soft glow of the TV pushing back the darkness.
It struck me one day, that maybe, just maybe, something wasn’t right.
You know that niggling little voice that in the back of your mind?
It began to get louder, and more insistent.
Oh I can hear you now. What about all the good times we had? Remember the blizzard of 2003, when we were stuck in the house without electricity for 3 days? To some that might seem like a nightmare, but we had each other, didn’t we?
Look, I was in pain so long ago when I went looking for something, anything, to fill the void in my life.
When I found you, at first you supplied it what I need.
Something that I thought fulfilled me, and made me whole.
Man, was I wrong.
You tricked me, and you’ve been dishonest.
You make me emotional, and that’s a big part of our problem. You have Svengali-like powers over me.
And that’s something that I was blind to at first, but now, to coin an old phrase, I’ve seen the light.
Remember The Good Times
At first I thought we spent lots of good years together, but looking back, what I was counting as good years was really me wishing and hoping for the good times my friends were having.
It just never materialized for us.
Just empty promises, and empty calories.
I remember when holding you close and hearing your wrapper crinkle and crunch would really get my juices flowing, but those days are over now.
The thrill is gone, baby, and all that’s left as a reminder of our love are shards of you that fell between the couch cushions and those colorful fast food wrappers under my car seat.
There’s a new love in my life, and it makes you look like the charlatan you always were but I never could see.
I’m moving on, baby, and I wanted you to hear it from me instead of one of your empty-promise friends.
The New Me
The only way to get this done is to cut it off right here, right now.
I don’t want to hear any whining, I’ve thought about this for, oh, I don’t know, years, and quite frankly I’m tired of thinking about it.
So this is it. It’s time for action.
Get out, and stay out!
And let go of my leg, you’re embarrassing yourself.
Baby, this just feels right!!
To Your Optimum Health!