I ate too much Pecan Praline ice cream tonight, spooning it from the deep, white bowl and into my mouth, sucking the sweet vanilla creaminess down until the sugar-coated pecans were left, then slowly munching them into powder that dissolved over my tongue, the intensity lingering like late afternoon love making. Now I feel bloated and slightly sick, a distended belly, which I’ve disdained in others, beneath my accusatory palms. Here I am, no better than any other slob who stuffs their face in the heat of uncontrollable despair, now looking at the toilet from the corner of my eye. Continue reading Surrender, Binge, Purge