Fasting, that word put me off dieting forever.
The techno music is on.
‘Yes, I’m taking methamphetamines.’
Bought from the doctor of course.
‘Oh, good.’ That’s John’s thoughtful voice, quiet and engaging.
‘Take it,’ said Faith after I told her how I lost four kilograms.
She has given me her blessings to take the pills.
Trust me, that really meant the world to me.
And take it I will.
You never know what is going to happen while taking Duromine.
You know one thing, it’s always going to be good listening to music.
What if I lose another four kgs over the next week?
What if?
It’s definitely in the realms of can do.
Eight kgs lighter.
Eight kgs less pulling my body down.
As if gravity isn’t enough.
Now imagine 20 kgs less.
I’ll be able to fly.
The wind will blow me over.
Every waking hour is dealt with losing weight.
‘Chill, I’ll do all the work for you.’
Thanks, Duromine.
Met a crackhead on the bus.
‘Duromine.’
The way he said it.
It meant something.
It’s what you use when you can’t score on the street.
He got me thinking.
If a crack head spoke highly of it.
‘Duromine.’
Just one word.
You knew there was some merit in taking it.
‘Duromine.’
The way he said it.
It had some power.
It was potent.
If it got a crack head’s attention, it must be good shit.
Wrinkle Lips was slim because he was smoking crack.
Thanks, Jock.
I eventually found out.
How can you be so slim in your fifties?
Crack.
Everyone is using it to fit into their dresses.
I want to lose 40 pounds for an upcoming wedding so I can look good in my dress.
Housewives, the majority.
They feel like fat dumplings.
They feel worthless.
And even when they lose the forty pounds they are still ugly.
But that’s not the point.
It’s all about self-esteem.
