As I look back upon my life, it’s always with a sense of shame. I’ve always been the one to blame for everything I’ve ever bought. No matter from where, or what, or from who have one thing in common too. These foods are a sin. A literal missing of the mark. Like an archer completely beefing a bullseye shot. In school they taught me what to eat. On a pyramid or other food based geometry chart. Though they missed the mark. That is on them.

My only hope is whatever powers that be can forgive me. I never fully cared or understood proper nutrition. Not when I can pop a multivitamin and be fine. In theory. Yet I still feel I failed someone, somehow, as I pop this tart between my lips. Time and time again I buy the newest Pop Tart. Each new flavor has diminishing returns. Salted Caramel Pretzel should have been my wake up call. Eggo Waffle is my cry for help.

My cat who always begs for my food took one nibble. Normally he would atleast watch me eat if he didn’t enjoy it. Look at his eyes. That’s the look of someone processing betrayal on a level they have never experienced before. He left, that was hours ago. I still haven’t seen him around. I honestly had to eat a bowl of Chef Boyardee ravioli. If you have never had those, god I envy you. It’s a very powerfully unpleasant taste. So you know you are suffering from an emotional crisis when you go digging through your emergency foods for a can of that taste.

The food stuff so disgusting people make fake cans into safes knowing no one will find your pot stash in one of those containers. That was my choice to try and fix my mouth. Largely because I was afraid it might ruin any flavor that came next. So how was it? It tasted like stale deep fryer grease after three days of cooking funnel cakes. Slightly sweet, very oily, and almost instantly makes you want to wretch. I find it impossible to rate it as a food. It’s like rating air fresheners for mouth feel. It’s not designed as food. It’s like when they make some holistic medicine and put on the package it’s not intended for humans. Perhaps those novelty hot sauces that legally say it’s not a food. I think of it like those. I’d buy it as a joke gift. That’s the best use. Like a can of spring snakes peanut brittle. Buy some and just leave it in your house and wait for some unwitting soul to try it. Then sit back and enjoy knowing you have permanently lost that person’s trust. As for me, I’m to stupid to learn. I already know what next week holds when I’m at the store.