Thursday 3 November 2016

Instant Noodles

Marketing schemes are targeted towards potatoes like me. I deliberated between a pack of RM5 noodles and a pack that costed twice as much, plus a few cents. Sesame oil, ooooh!

They smell the same and taste quite alike: instant cancer.

There, I have splurged unnecessarily on an expensive pack of instant cancer when I could have bought 10 such little plastic sacks of the same disease. I try not to buy them at all in an effort to lead a healthier lifestyle, but as you know, I am trying to die. It doesn't seem to work though, dying. Ah, death is as equally difficult as life! Both of them despise me and I am accepted by neither, but rejected by either.

Anyway, my longevity has begun to annoy me. What, long-life? I am only 20? That may be so but I have had enough of functioning as a material subject and not being alive. I breathe, my heart beats, blood still flows and I am warm-- yes, yes, those are signs of being alive but it is automatic and I cannot control it. Well, I may be able to hold my breath for a minute or so before my body starts gasping for air on its own selfish account. I suppose I am just as selfish as my body is, and that, we cannot accept.

If I keep on eating instant noodles everyday, which I will not because they are disgusting and taste like factories, salt and wax, I might eventually have to suffer an insufferable hospitalization and beg for somebody else's kidney. Nah, I don't want that. By the time I've eaten enough instant cancer, I'd be 35 with a career and could actually try living, in my spare time.

Occasionally, I enjoy myself and I see how marvelous it is to be alive and well! Ho... Well...? Alive, but well? That is relative. We shall leave that for some other entry. For now, just buy the cheapest noodles stacked on the shelves because they are noting but cancer in cheap wraps of ideology.





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