look, i work at a morgue, i get to see every day how withered and small bodies can get when someone was sick. it’s awful. do you know how bone-thin a leg can get. or how a stomach really looks beneath the ribs when it’s wasted away. the way people’s eyes and cheeks press in to their skull like they’re clinging on for dear life. they died like that, and you want to try and sell me a lie, a pill, a miracle cure that’ll make me live in that state? that’ll make my friends look like that, my family, the people i love? to see corpses in them?
this job makes me appreciate all the more bodies lived in and well-loved. please eat that second serving. please give yourself treats as much as you want. life is not long enough to suffer through it. you’ll be plenty skinny when you’re dead.











