A letter to my mother.

Hey Ma,

I was thinking about it, and how weird is it that I once “lived” (if you could really call that “living,” in the social sense) inside you? My whole body, not just the relatively smaller parts, used to be housed inside you. All my thoughts, habits (although then limited), heroics (still to this day, limited) and vices (growing every day, thank you.) were fully contained inside this swelled cavity that made you somewhat awkward when climbing stairs and damned hysterical to watch dance… I’ve drifted off topic.

Anyways, I was thinking about that last night when I cooked and ate 4 pounds of chicken and I was thinking… If I was really, really hungry, like starving, ribs exposed, scruffy junk yard dog level of hungry… I could prob’ choke down 5 pounds of that delicious chicken.


It occurred to me….

You must have felt so full, like all the time.

And for that, Ma….

I salute you, for feeling what must have been TERRIBLY full.

Jesus, 9 pounds of chicken? you can fucking forget that.