[RE]define Reality.

“Eat Your Heart Out” is a series of words remembered from break-ups reimagined as something sweet.

“I can’t hate or speak ill or even dislike her for choosing to do what she did. She chose to do what she thought was best for her… how could I ever hold that against her or anyone for that matter?”

My sister asked me on the drive to the airport today what had happened. And the long gist of it was pretty much that. And then she said:

“If I gave you a bowl of skittles and three of them were poison would you still eat them?”

“Are the other skittles human lives?”

“What?”

“Like. Is there a good chance. A really good chance. I would be saving someone from a war zone and probably their life if I ate a skittle?”

“Well sure. But the point-”

“I would eat the skittles.”

“Ok-well the point is-”

“I would GORGE myself on skittles. I would eat every single fucking skittle I could find. I would STUFF myself with skittles. And when I found the poison skittle and died I would make sure to leave behind a legacy of children and of friends who also ate skittle after skittle until there were no skittles to be eaten. And each person who found the poison skittle we would weep for. We would weep for their loss, for their sacrifice, and for the fact that they did not let themselves succumb to fear but made the world a better place by eating skittles.

Because your REAL question…the one you hid behind a shitty little inaccurate, insensitive, dehumanizing racist little candy metaphor is, IS MY LIFE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF MEN, WOMEN, AND TERRIFIED CHILDREN…