Over the last little while I've started to think that I should stop eating meat. Not sure that it's helping my life at this point. I'm sure meat is okay with it.
'But hey, I'm meat! What in the hell am I dying for if no one is going to eat me!?'
'... Well if nobody eats you you won't have to die.'
'Why the hell wouldn't you want to eat me? I'm meat!'
'I mean, a couple of reasons.'
Me not wanting to eat meat much anymore doesn't really have a whole lot to do with the fact that an animal has to die. If I had to kill an animal to eat it? I wouldn't. That's just me. A lot of people could and can, and that's cool, but if I had to actually kill a thing to eat it, man, no way. Even a chicken.
'Come here, chicken! You gotta die!'
'Why?! What did I do?!'
'Nothing! I just want to cook your tits!'
'Dear god! Let me live! Just put them in your mouth!'
'No, I wanna eat 'em!'
Not being able to strangle a cow with my bare hands is not THE reason that I want to cut down on meat. . Big reason is that I don't really feel good after eating meat anymore. Specifically red meat. It now stops me from feeling like a normal person. I used to eat meat and still want to do things. Now, if I eat red meat, I don't want to move. Even just a burger.
'Buddy, look out! You're pulling the table cloth off of the table!!'
'Yeah, I need a blanket. Gonna nap in this booth.'
'Jesus! Everything is on the floor.!'
'Shhhh! Could you please stop yelling? I'm exhausted over here.'
I've always eaten meat. At one point I was ADDICTED to chicken wings. I was eating at least two pounds a week for about four straight years. And before that I was still eating them, just not on such a regimented schedule. Just couldn't get enough chicken wings. When people would ask me what my favourite food was, chicken wings. When I went ANYWHERE, I would get chicken wings. Even places that I KNEW were not going to have good wings. Restaurants like 'We have good everything EXCEPT chicken wings. We swear to god. Don't order them here!' I'd get them and go, 'Ugh, these are terrible' while still eating them. After awhile, I looked awful and felt awful. Two pounds a week for four years! That's 104 pounds a year! Dear Christ. I ate that! If I could see a room full of all of the wings I've eaten, I'd throw up. It's enough wings for them to gather together and form some sort of wing voltron.
Having just turned 30, it feels like this is the time. Feels like this the time to decide if you're going to eat healthy and try to feel good from now on OR take the other road and just throw it all into the garbage. It doesn't get easier from here to live healthier, go to the gym and keep weight off. Only harder. At 20 I could eat pizza and still go somewhere. 30 if I have a couple of slices before I go to sleep, I wake up feeling like I drank.
'Dear god, how much did I.... Oh, nothing. I drank water and those three pieces of meat lovers pizza. CHRIST. I just hope I didn't drive home. Ugh.'
So, I'm trying. I'd love to just switch right to plants and no dairy. I'm sure I could, but it's going to take me a minute before I go full. But I'm slowly going full. Because whatever. I have had enough meat and dairy in my life. Had it. Do I NEED to keep doing it? How much milk do I have to drink? How many chicken tits do I need to suck on?! How many?! It's time to drink the milk of a million crushed almonds! It's time to the eat the tits off of some spinach!