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No More Fruit

Conventional wisdom dictates to me that fruit is a necessary part of any well-balanced diet. I cannot eat it, currently, without feeling over-full for hours. I’ll be giving it a rest because of this. The same with plant milks, which I was using to try to invite more nutrition into my paltry diet.

I don’t have enough variety to stay alive on what I can easily put into my gullet, so I must take a multi-vitamin and b vitamin complex. This is far from ideal and I am well aware of that. I pray that my intestines fix themselves before I die of malnutrition. I’ve tried doctors and they’ve just encouraged me to further self-destruct instead of helping me, so now I rely on my intuition.

My intuition’s name is GOD. I have more internal voices that are not me other than Lord God, but I try not to listen to them. They attempt to emulate the notorious G.O.D., however, and give me terrible advice. Last night’s terrible advice was a blackberry-cranberry smoothie with sunbutter and unsweetened soy milk. I imbibed that concoction around 1:00 A.M. and continued to regret it for three and a half hours. (One in the morning is my last call for food. I’m a night owl.)

Thus, today, I want nothing to do with those four ingredients. Individually, I can digest them all (in small quantities), but I have a propensity for going overboard. I ate probably “four servings” (or two, in my world where it’s about something other than calories.)

God didn’t ask me to make that smoovie. (Get over it, it’s something I find amusing to say.) No, this douche bag in England did. His name is Nick and he’s been harassing me telepathically for ages. More than a year, off and on. I once thought I loved that man, but this has absolutely cured me of that particular delusion, I must say. This exercise where I can talk to him freely as myself and hear his honest responses has proven to me that he is not the man I perceived him to be.

It’s one part my fault, one part his.

Today, he “dies.” God will remove his ability to talk to my brain and untether him in order to suffer the consequences of his repeated misbehavior. You might wonder what he’s done. He’s a womanizer, in a word. He’s got several “floozies” States-side while he has sex with women in the U.K. (Without protection, might I add… quite a risky behavior, don’t you think?) All the while, calling all of them bitches left and right. He’s a woman hater, not lover. That’s why women don’t like womanizers, men.

You’re not loving them, you’re dishing out the hatred instead.

Still, what can I do, other than ignore his unsound diet advice? “Oh, surely you can eat some berries no problem. Let’s go hunter-gatherer again, that should solve everything.” I don’t know what I was thinking… I guess I was hopeful to have real food in my diet again. Something more than nuts, oil, meat, and plenty of brassicas. (Those are: cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, brussel sprouts, etc.) And onion. I can eat onion.

Managing my body’s digestive system is tedious. That’s why I keep hoping for an easy out. There isn’t one. It’s six cups of veggies a day, a cup of meat, and a cup of nuts. Oh, and 12 tsp. of avocado oil in a day. This is the only formula there is for eating right now that results in consistently feeling well-fed and also losing weight, which is what I’ve been fighting for in the long run.

I’ve discovered one thing: being overweight (“fat”) is a symptom of poor health. It’s a symptom of inability to digest what is going in. I’ll give an example to illustrate. If I eat a banana, I gain two pounds for two days. If I eat the diet I prescribed above, I am either stable (once I reach the weight my body desires) or I lose weight. But if I add that banana on top? Armageddon in my guts. I gain two pounds. Thanks for playing the “my digestive system is fucked up” game.

I know it is. I know it’s not right, eating one banana and gaining two pounds. It doesn’t matter if that banana is inside another meal or by itself, either. My system says, “Thou shalt not pass.” It stores whatever is in that banana as fat and misery. I’m okay without bananas, but I’d like those berries back one day, y’know? They have important phytonutrients or whatever. It’s important to have a “diverse diet!”

I’m starting to think it’s not. I think it’s just important to get enough of the all-star nutrients your body needs in a day and that’s that. It doesn’t matter if it’s the same vegetable every time, not really. If you’re already eating all the variety of veg you can get into your body safely in a week in an appropriate quantity, then the body’s needs are taken care of. This crap where we ought to eat this, that, and the other thing for health reasons is the reason I’m in this camp right now.

I have a bowel obstruction, or cancer, or a bad digestive system, or enzyme deficiency, or whatever the fuck it is. The cure is to eat six small meals a day. One cup of veg for each meal, at least, and half a cup of meat twice a day, and that cup of nuts once a day. I think of these vegetables as “free.” I can eat however much my body can fit in it around these other foods I’m eating. As long as I’m not eating the foods that offend me, I lose weight. No matter how many veggies I eat. I cannot overeat the vegetables easily at all; my stomach fills up too quickly to allow for it.

Still, I have looked up what “healthy poop” looks like, and I’m not there yet. I’m missing something and it seems like I can’t actually eat it. I can’t eat grains; they all convert straight to fat. And maybe that’s because I don’t exercise enough, but two hours of yoga per day ought to be enough, don’t you think?

I have tried adding a little of this and a little of that, and it takes a touch of brown rice or quinoa or any grain, really — like two tablespoons — to make it “healthy.” (Did you know if you’re not sick, it’s not messy to clean up at all? Literally there is almost no reason to wipe your rear end other than you’ve been doing it for decades out of habit. I still do, but now I know what my goal is and it means a hell of a lot less waste, I’ll tell you that.)

God tells me I’ve got cancer. He’s told me that for months and months. I don’t really believe it, but I don’t discount it, either. I know sugar (natural or not) feeds cancer. I know the diet I described above is incredibly low in glycemic index, too. I also know I feel better eating it. I feel great while eating fruits (when they digest properly), but it’s just the cancer cells getting a happy, he says. He also says in the hunter-gatherer society, most fruit was obtained by men who climbed trees. They didn’t typically bring it back to the tribe and instead ate it on the go while hunting for buffalo or bison or whatever big game would feed the whole tribe.

It’s also noteworthy to mention that they didn’t bring the animal fat back to camp. It was a waste of effort to carry it, so they cut the majority of it out of the meat and left it for the wild animals to eat and pick at. That is, until the white man came and showed them that they could make tallow with the fat. I’m speaking of the Native American experience, if I need to spell it out for you. Candles. Artificial light. It’s what doomed our society as a whole. It’s what is going to destroy planet Earth, actually.

God revived me for the fireworks show that’s coming. I should be in the ground already, but he snatched me up and took care of me for years now, painstakingly feeding me meal after meal. It began with meat and only meat. It might end with only meat, too, for a bit, while we cure cancer. It’s best to eat it off the bone, friends. Use your hands, too, it’s what we were meant to do. We were meant to roast bison over an open fire in the middle of the camp and, as it cooked, cut off pieces that were slightly charred to eat while sitting around, carousing and playing in the aftermath of an extremely good hunt. This would expose less cooked hunks of meat to the fire, allowing it to roast some more. It also solved for lack of refrigeration; it would take days to cook these mammoth portions of meat on a spit over the fire.

Once it was all gone, the men would have to form a new hunting party to start all over again. All in all, a well-fed tribe ate a bison a week. If you’ve ever seen a cow, a whole cow, slaughtered, you know that means HUGE. Hundreds of pounds of meat. To feed hundreds of hungry mouths. That is what it was like to be a Native American. The women who stayed behind would practice medicine and gather herbs and vegetables. They never dug in the dirt to pull out these root vegetables you’re all addicted to like crack fiends. The ones that are destroying your guts, might we add.

Paprika. That’s the thing that started my digestive downfall. It ripped a hole in my colon at the age of 7, alongside Ritalin. I am telling you now that there are side-effects to “medicine” we’ve created for handling depression and ADHD. After a bout of Zoloft a few years ago, my organs are shredded completely. I’ve had to return from the dead and the only way to do it was copious amounts of animal meat. On the bone. All the essential amino acids for life are found in the bones of animals. By eating meat, gently and slowly cooked until the bones are hot, I was able to start repairing myself. I beat mast cell activation syndrome, something that the leading expert says you cannot do. All you can do is manage it. What a shitty life that must be. Managing breaking out into hives and going into anaphylaxis at every fucking meal.

Excuse me if that is not for me. Nope. I did that for two or three weeks. I also discovered aloe vera helped the itchy of the hives, even though I knew the hives were caused by the food I ate. I hope that helps someone, somewhere, because after breaking out into hives every single meal for weeks, I was so over it. I have an incredible tolerance for pain and discomfort and it only took me a week of that shit to figure out a way to stop it. I don’t know how Dr. Beth O’Hara has come to the conclusion she merely has to manage it when I figured out how to cure it, but it is what it is. (It’s possible she figured out how to cure it, but where’s the money in that, Big Pharma would cry!)

I doubt she knows how to fix it because much of her content is free. However, I’m not a doctor so I doubt by input would be considered valuable. Nay, I am a scientist. Through trial and error, I fixed myself. Then this asshole, Nick, comes along inside my head, throwing a monkey wrench in the whole thing.

Let me tell you: Fall of 2021, I was on my weight loss journey and feeling pretty shitty overall. This joker comes along and starts feeding me donuts. Gas station donuts! As if those are the best donuts, anyway. He keeps feeding me dairy. “Oh, just eat some butter!” No! Dairy is half the reason I’m in this shit show to begin with. God is adamant about few things, but he will not allow me to consume any more dairy. Besides the fact that it rips open my insides, it’s pain. I am consuming the pain of cows. Do you know what they do to cows these days? They put this pitiless, psychopathic machine on the udders of cows to milk the cows automatically so they can remove the need for milk maids (and, subsequently, paying milk maids.) These machines over-milk the cows, putting blood and pus straight into the milk supply.

Is that really what you want to eat, people? The pain of cows? And I’ve got one more question for you: do we milk human beings and sell that to other human beings? No, we don’t. We do not ask human beings to provide milk for the pleasure of the taste buds. Why? If we’re doing something humane to these cows… oh, wait. We’re not. You already know we’re not because we don’t do it to human beings. We don’t steal baby food for the sake of taste buds. Stop stealing baby food. It’s a “sin.” It’s wrong. It’s bad.

I pray for all the cows, honestly. I want them to be okay. I want them to live to be slaughtered so I can eat them. Although, I surely wish bison was more abundant. Or maybe beefalo. Buffalo would be the best, but I’m not sure they exist anymore.

All this hogwash about red meat being bad for you is to sell more mistreated chickens and turkeys. Just cut off the meat fat, bro. Use plant fats because we still need fats… just not the fats off the big beasties. It’s arguable that we shouldn’t even eat chickens and turkeys, honestly, because they’re too small to feed a tribe. The white man excels at making tribes as small as possible, it seems, especially after their genocide they call The Trail of Tears.

I’ll leave you to contemplate the pain and misery of being transported from one’s homeland to a designated wasteland, being treated inhumanely every step of the way. Rounded up like fucking cattle with zero dignity.

God’s quite displeased, children of Earth. There shall be Hell to pay.

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