I binge on memories. Every day I shove the past down my throat and allow it to fill me. I bob through the day, waddling, swollen with what I eat & eat & eat.
At night I sit at my desk and purge. Weak poetry, erratic and incoherent journal entries, unfinished short stories, scraps of paper chicken-scratched with thoughts..
I binge and purge. Every single day. When will we learn?