Apples

It all started on an ordinary day. I hadn’t touched a piece of fruit in years, having somehow drifted into a life devoid of nature's sweet, juicy gifts. Not a single apple, banana, or berry had graced my diet in what felt like an eternity. It wasn't a conscious decision—more of an unconscious drift into the convenience of processed snacks and meals. But then, a friend, lets say his name is Kevin, invited me to the local fruit shop.

Kevin was not exactly a health enthusiast, but in this moment he stirred an interest in me for wellness and vitality. Not with his words, rather some unspoken aura. I had to admit, the thought of biting into a crisp apple had a nostalgic allure, a distant memory of simpler and better times. We entered the shop, the vibrant colors and fresh scents of the fruits were almost overwhelming.

We wandered through the aisles, Kevin picked up a large bag of Granny Smith apples. "Green or red man" he probed with a knowing smile. On a whim, and perhaps caught up in Kevins enthusiasm, I bought the bag. The green, shiny apples seemed to call out to me, promising a burst of tart freshness that I had long forgotten.

Back at home, I sat down with the bag of apples. One bite was all it took to reignite a long-lost love affair with fruit. The crisp, tangy flavor exploded in my mouth, and I couldn’t stop. One apple led to another, i was in a malaise and before I knew it, I had devoured the entire contents of the bag. The initial pleasure was undeniable. I felt invigorated, more alive than i had felt in years. I was almost euphoric, as if I had rediscovered a part of myself that had been missing my entire life.

The inevitable consequences of my gluttony began to surface soon enough. It started with a slight discomfort in my stomach, which quickly escalated to a full-blown existential crisis. The apples, with their high fiber content and my body's lack of resilience to such foods, began to wreak havoc on my digestive system. Within hours, I was tethered to the toilet.

The following days were a surreal blend of discomfort and introspection. I was confined to a short length of both distance and time to the bathroom. The ordeal was relentless, my body purging itself seemingly both physically and metaphorically. What my body and mind expelled towards the end was so clear i expect it may have been potable, a testament to the body's incredible ability to adapt and cleanse.

Despite the obvious physical discomfort, the experience wasn't entirely unpleasant. There was a clear cleansing aspect, a purging of not just the physical, but perhaps the emotional and psychological residue of years without nature’s gifts. As the hours dragged on, I found myself reflecting on my dietary choices and the broader implications of neglecting such a fundamental aspect of nutrition.

I emerged with a newfound appreciation for moderation and balance. While the experience had been extreme, it served as a stark reminder of the importance of integrating natural foods into my diet. I vowed to reintroduce fruit in a more controlled manner, appreciating the flavors and benefits without the need for such excess. The Granny Smith incident became a turning point, a humorous yet profound lesson in the perils of overindulgence and the value of balance.