The Weight Of The World On These Narrow Shoulders

IBS affects one in ten people globally, according to the statistics the doctors compiled, so nine of you are safe. I gat dis.

It’s a condition where you go through periods when you have trouble digesting certain foods. Some of us get bloated and cannot socialize after eating … unless it is in Kamyokya, which already smells so bad my gas will barely be noticed. Seriously. You fart in Dangala and the LC 1 personally arrives to sneer at you for bringing toothpicks to a gunfight.

Others have it worse. Eating certain foods give them dios.

I recently found out that the extent of fate’s malignancy had been gravely underestimated when I discovered the possibility of transition between the two.

So psychologically ill-equipped to deal with dios — given that IBS-constipation had gotten me used to a day to day life when I barely ever even shit, let alone emit this vast effusion that has taken to emerging from my bowels all day, that I immediately leapt onto a panic diet, cutting out every probable IBS trigger.

A lot of IBS triggers are delicious, but that’s not a problem. I am dead inside and lack the capacity for real love. I can barely sustain affection for fellow human beings– you expect me to care about chocolate?

Listen. Everyone has left me. Everyone I ever cared about has turned their back and walked away, leaving me hollow, beeft, broken, a husk, a deflated kaveera trampled in the dark ditches of life. Why would food be any different? So what if I loved beef stroganoff in mushroom sauce? Everything I love leaves me. So what if I gave my heart to Guinness, everyone who gets my heart throws it back in my face.

So why should I expect rolex or biyebwa to be any different?

Either I’m still having a tough time dealing with Roseanne dumping me last month, or I actually just lost my soul during those IBS farting bout. I may have just sharted out my entire emotional core without realizing it.

I am not sure because think about it. How would you tell that you were losing your capacity to feel things?

If you can’t feel the loss?

Whoa. Fart jokes got dark real quick.

So I got on an emergency IBS no-trigger diet and didn’t stop to think about what it would mean besides saving money on tissue paper. It was a diet. I cut out sugar, fried things, wheat, meat, pretty much every fattening carb.

And so I lost weight.

Quite a bit. Those of people who hadn’t seen me in a month thought I was some skinny guy who looked a bit like Baz and speaking of Baz, I haven’t seen Baz in a month. How is the pudgy old sweetheart?

My mum’s comment, “Ne akabina kabuze.”

I can’t have my mum making jokes about my ass. I have to get my kilos back. Bring sugar.

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