RIGHTEOUS GLUTTONY OF SELF
No.
The weight of this single word has been altered from a state of neutrality into one of disagreeable opposition, casting its speaker as a separate entity from the cogs of social propriety. In a world of expectations and bowing, opposition is detested. An uncontested yes; a short nod of the head; a bite of the tongue. Behaviors that allow the gears of humanity to continue running are celebrated to be a normality. Anything that deviates from this accepted monotony cannot be accepted unless followed by extraordinary results or events.
Despite the clink and clack of our industrious world, I believe in the salvation of gluttony. While gluttony is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, I would still encourage you to take the pomegranate and engross yourself mindlessly with the fruit. Wash it of its remnants of Earth. Cut off its crown. Dissect it into sections. Savor the seeds of choice and autonomy. Consume fervently to think freely. Allow the stain of red to run down your arms and body—painting yourself anew.
There cannot be anything more constricting than a life of living for others. For a life of foreign opinions, demands, and expectations is not a life of your own. Choice for self allows for fruition and growth beyond the external cage. Be daring and wild, allowing your abstract body, mind, and heart to take in the extrinsic noise to feed yourself and grow. Even an intrinsic binding has value, for it reflects your framework of rationality and belief, demanding you to bend or twist for your gratification. To satisfy another’s gluttony is a giving away of fruit that you could selfishly devour.
Eat the pomegranate.
A year and a half ago, I came across a deep garnet pomegranate lying enticingly in front of me. I knew the world condemned gluttonous minds and hands. Yet, the selfishness and desire for more overcame my body. I feverishly washed the fruit of its dirty exterior that stuck on like grime. You have to do this. You don’t have a choice. The shine of its outer shell was surprising. A seemingly impossible first action of snatching the fruit, seamlessly transitioned into scrubbing it. I irrationally believed the Earth's stain to permeate the fruit, yet it washed away so easily with the strength of my effort and hope.
Taking my bare hands, I instinctively ripped off the crown of the pomegranate, forbidding any further development of the berry. It is always like this. Nothing will change. Next, I tore the fruit into its luscious individual sections, enamored over the newfound novelty of this satiating fruit I had been forbidden to eat. Life is just this. I do not have control over what happens. With trepidation, I opened my mouth and savored the fruit. Little by little, my body became impassioned by the sweetness and began moving at its own accord. I did not know. I greedily ate and ate, almost to a drunken state. As I ravened the fruit to its remnants, I dizzily sat surrounded by its shells and membranes. However, underlying this lightheaded state of gluttony was a sense of great pleasure and desire.
I chose to pick up the pomegranate. I chose to sever it. I chose to consume it. I did not know about the pure ecstasy that could accompany an action made for the self. With my external body painted red, I felt the vitality of my crimson blood pulsating throughout my mind and heart. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I stood in my barren and vestal form as a human in the midst of the manufactory world. I did not know the fruit of life was so sweet.
AUTHOR: Janine Ren
ARTIST: Renee Zhu