WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS?
Edit: Okay, so I read why, BUT STILL, DUDE. YOU'VE READ THE HORRORS!
-Suu
Just felt her asshole pucker all over again.
I'm very slowly rebounding from a black depression that's brought me too close to a very different precipice these last couple months and getting myself all hopped up on ORANGES..... was appealing. 
Puns aside, I REALLY underestimated the fuckers by more than I even figured possible. Here's the fucked up part: Even in the worst of the agony I felt a certain thrill. It wasn't masochism. The pain was a massive distraction from the good feeling I had, in fact. I don't think it was a product of the bitter ass chemistry at play either, nor the "rush" of an altered state. I can do more with less and no side effects in meditation if I so choose, not my first rodeo as they say.
I think it was the unexpected challenge I brought on myself and the sense that even though I'd brought it on myself it was also mine alone to overcome. Again I only told the most technical parts of the experience for the reason stated, but the rest of that story feels like it helped me seal the shit these last couple months behind me.
I soppose I could say I was tossed and laid out for trespass, but they deposited me on the far side of their turf, where I was headed. They are now between me and what I left behind. I don't know if that makes sense, but that's the feeling.
What you felt, son, was the thrill of being an ATHLETE. Of pushing your body to its limits. Being a competitive orange-eater isn't just about an event, it's about a mindset and a lifestyle. It's about a way of being. It's about being WILLING to eat orange after orange, even when the body and everyone around you says no. It's about KNOWING that you might shit yourself or vomit blood. It's about SMELLING the orange sweat for days afterward.
When you're an orange-eating competitor, you are more than just an athlete. You are AN HERO.
I swear the fuck to Christ two things
1. I heard goddamn majestic trumpets in my head as I started reading that, and they weren't just for me. They were for THE FUTURE of the many.
2. When you wrote AN HERO my brain translated it to something like not quite a British accent saying something like "an errow" in a winky sort of way like you might say horrible as "'orrible". As in an historic or an honorable... but. . You.. know that...
Anyway what I'm saying is that that particular pronunciation should be the "inside" version, methinks.
You know what I would rather do than eat ORANGES again? Almost literally anything else, including unmentionable things I might NEVER consider preferable except by comparison TO ORANGES. I have eaten exactly one since last time just to see if I could, and I did. My body no longer seems to instinctively consider them food, but recognized the sugar and vitamins enough to get going... "if that's how it's going to be then". Just one. It felt like I'd left a little reminder of myself behind after, a memento for them of my gratitude for their kind treatment on my way through.
Funny story, true story. Things got awfully anthropomorphic up in this head here. Didn't place the accent and THAT seemed a neat effect, novel linguistic permutations are rather rare. Usually it's a more recognizable set of stuff that the mind builds imagery from. Not quite on par with shouting in a truly foreign language, but hey.
When I was peeling the one since I happened to notice that the sticker said Product of South Africa and it clicked. That was the accent.
The ORANGES will see me again. I'll be more respectably prepared next time.
(
"WHAT THE FUCK AM I SAYING??" That's the part of me that's not on board, loosely translated from the neural signals of the parts of me that have to actual EAT them, but they don't actually have a vote.)
