tuckova

I don't know, I don't think it's something everybody needs. I don't think it's something everybody has daily. I'm not asserting ubiquity, though if I'm being honest I feel a little arrogant claiming what I consider to be such a staple. 

Because sometimes you want to punch it? Sometimes it just needs a good massage. It needs one, get it? Get it. Get it.

The simplicity of it. After it's done. The ease of it. 

Rolled into balls, squeezed into something and rolled towards an overwhelming question.

I once traveled four hours for a particular kind, then traveled home, and I don't regret a minute. Sometimes it's easy to love that much.

Some people can't tolerate it. Some people can totally tolerate it and say that they can't because that kind of purity makes them feel better.

It's not bad for you in moderation and if you can't be moderate that's not its fault.

I say it meaning me.

The sorrow in the feeling of not enough butter. As if the butter were the sugar making the medicine go down. No I'm not saying butter isn't delicious. I just don't think it's the point. 

Nor is melted cheese the point, nor cold cheese of varying thickness. Nor fruit in any incarnation. Those things exist separately deliciously; it's a complement, not a necessity. They can feel like a necessity but they are not. It is the thing itself, even though almost everything else makes it even better.

I'm identifying with my subject. Or, as identifying was the point: overidentifying.

The genius who said "It's done! Let's put fire on it and make it… more done!" and how that parallels with constantly striving.

Well it's not a staple everywhere, calm down, it's not that I think I'm indispensible or something. 

There's probably something interesting to say about how what one historically thought of as refined is now seen as less healthy but I don't know how that parallels (although on second thought I kind of do).