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Sent: Sunday, July 13, 2008 11:10 AM
I'm the kind of person who can't separate a bunch of bananas in the store because they'll miss each other. I have to buy the whole bunch, or none at all.
-----Email Messge-----
Sent: Sunday, July 13, 2008 12:41 AM
i buy the saddest "charlie brown" christmas tree i can find every year because i feel sorry for it, knowing no one else would ever choose it.
i love that part of me
Taken from http://postsecret.blogspot.com/, week of July 13th, 2008.
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Me, too.
Even though I can't stand the taste of bruised bananas, I sometimes would take pity on a poor, bruised banana from the fruitbasket at home and eat it first so that it would not be subject to the cruel neglect of my more discriminating family members. It's an underdog-preference complex; many of us suffer from some (though not always fruity) form of it. I would pry the injured banana from its more fortunate brethren with their clear complexions, all survivors of an unfortunate grocery bag mishap, and deem it worthy of consumption. By me. ME. Because I'm awesome.
Admittedly, beneath the sense of justice and potassium rushing through my veins lurked some doubt as to how much good I was doing for bananakind in the end. To be chosen is to be eaten, after all. Do bananas prefer to be chosen and chomped to bits, or would they rather be neglected and decompose more or less intact? Am I the god of the bananas? Are they honoured to be chosen by me regardless of what being chosen might entail? Is it the lifelong goal of the humble banana to be crushed between mighty human molars, forced into a pool of acid, and ultimately to facilitate the formation of healthy stools?
How we flatter ourselves into thinking that the objects of our desire, desire to be desired by us.
So much for rational consumers. Some of us are not even sane.
Sent: Sunday, July 13, 2008 11:10 AM
I'm the kind of person who can't separate a bunch of bananas in the store because they'll miss each other. I have to buy the whole bunch, or none at all.
-----Email Messge-----
Sent: Sunday, July 13, 2008 12:41 AM
i buy the saddest "charlie brown" christmas tree i can find every year because i feel sorry for it, knowing no one else would ever choose it.
i love that part of me
Taken from http://postsecret.blogspot.com/, week of July 13th, 2008.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Me, too.
Even though I can't stand the taste of bruised bananas, I sometimes would take pity on a poor, bruised banana from the fruitbasket at home and eat it first so that it would not be subject to the cruel neglect of my more discriminating family members. It's an underdog-preference complex; many of us suffer from some (though not always fruity) form of it. I would pry the injured banana from its more fortunate brethren with their clear complexions, all survivors of an unfortunate grocery bag mishap, and deem it worthy of consumption. By me. ME. Because I'm awesome.
Admittedly, beneath the sense of justice and potassium rushing through my veins lurked some doubt as to how much good I was doing for bananakind in the end. To be chosen is to be eaten, after all. Do bananas prefer to be chosen and chomped to bits, or would they rather be neglected and decompose more or less intact? Am I the god of the bananas? Are they honoured to be chosen by me regardless of what being chosen might entail? Is it the lifelong goal of the humble banana to be crushed between mighty human molars, forced into a pool of acid, and ultimately to facilitate the formation of healthy stools?
How we flatter ourselves into thinking that the objects of our desire, desire to be desired by us.
So much for rational consumers. Some of us are not even sane.
5 comments:
I think that Banans serve one purpose and one purpose only:
To enable you to sing, "This shit is Bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" after you drop said healthy stools.
LMAO, Reuben, LMAO.
Well, I personally leave the over-ripe bananas because I know my dad will eat them instead of letting them go to waste.
Hahah Reuben! You know, I added the stools part to the post just to facilitate the formation of your comment ;).
Yeah, same, my dad is usually the eater of last resort at my house. This was more of a metaphor than anything directly related to bananas. How're my commas doing?
LAWLS Bui. I don't think I've ever paid attention to the skin of the banana: all fruit are equal in my eyes, and must be consumed.
I love that website (postsecret), I actually have one of their books of collected secrets. The things people will admit to anonymously is amazing: I think the most elegant one I've seen is an ultrasound with the words "It's not his" scrawled across it.
Didn't notice any errors this time around. Keep up the good work :P
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