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       This time I ate that piece of chocolate in a foiled square - which I had unwrapped many times
before: digging my nails into its whitish coating: which has grown quite deeply after it:  turned it
in front of my nose and evaluated it as inedible.  :But not today.    Because: I had no success with
little pancakes from wet flour - my hunger was not such a best cook: no:     I jumped on the kitchen
counter again: raked back: behind the cumin and ground pepper: and quickly closed my eyes ...  in my
mouth: I was quite wet: from the sweet and milky chocolate thought:        to which I had completely
transformed shortly before.      :I knew for sure: that such a day would come once:  as evidenced in
particular by the fact: that I always put that chocolate back: in its dark place:     in the cabinet
above the hood: and I've done it many times over the years. Despite this bubble bath:   into which I
immersed the square: it tasted like shit - and immediately:      some ancient warning voice began to
scream in my head  - don't eat it! Spit it out: Moron - now!
       It was a beautiful: and exhausting food poisoning: that day: we shook together:   on the sofa
really responsibly - my baby face was reflected several times that day: in a small tarn: what shines
on the bottom of a porcelain jug for pooping: and it stretched me really hard:     I put myself into
those sounds of a thin rut: really: with my whole soul:   and I swore
thirty times at least: that I would never eat again in my life.
       As otherwise - crookedly.
       As soon as my father came: from the cruel business world out there:  he threw hard pasta into
boiling water with salt: and mixed it with eggs: I picked up a full plate:     and sat down near the
aquarium: to look at the tenches: as they have red lipstick on mouth: