Makeshift Dreams
More from this authorOnbeinggayandotherthings's Blog I have never been a foodie. To me, food used to be comfort: potato chips went best with laziness; chocolate cake and happiness made a good pairing; chinese takeout never tastes as great as when I’m sharing it with my partner. Heartache and brownies suit each other; pizza goes down well with company and wine. I never used to eat because I was hungry, or because food is sustenance and medicine and vital for longevity. I’d have a block of buttercream fudge to go with that mood, three hazelnut and vanilla rusks to dip into coffee because of that weather, and don’t even get me started on the meticulous planning that went into celebrating that birthday! Some of that (certainly not all of it) changed when I lost 17 kg two years ago. I threw out some bad habits (like having grilled cheese every night, dumping cream on all food I cooked, and drinking full cream milk and three sugars with my coffee), and I thought eliminating shitty food choices would open up some room for a go







