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Awhile back, I wanted to eat some cantaloupe.
I took the cantaloupe from the fridge and
began to slice it up, because you can't
just cut up half a cantaloupe. So, after the
process, I had one large bowl of cantaloupe
pieces. I began to eat. There was a lot of
cantaloupe. I slowly picked out each
delectable orange chunk. So sweet and juicy
and just plain full of the essence of a
cantaloupe. Only, I started to grow full, as
I said, it was a lot of cantaloupe.
So I put the bowl aside, at the other end of
the table, and leaned back. But, shortly, I
had the urge to eat some more, to savor the
taste a little longer. And there I was,
picking little hunks out of the bowl, much
to my stomach's discontent. But now, now I'm
full. I put the bowl aside once more.
But there were only a few pieces left, I couldn't
leave them there, wasn't enough to
validate wrapping the bowl up and putting it
back in the fridge. So I commited myself to
eating the rest. Finish it off. And I did, the
entire cantaloupe was now in my stomach.
And my stomach hated me.
Why go through that all? Why not get rid of
that sensitive body and enjoy cantaloupe
whenever it pleases me? Why not indulge?


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