Nougat Feldspar

Sometimes, like today, I don’t eat a meal. It’s amazing how frantic the mind becomes as the twenty-four hour mark passes and the belly doesn’t look differently, but you can feel it gnawing. The cheeks sink and lines appear under your eyes, which have gone dull with purpose. I don’t know…eating just didn’t come up today. Until now.

I just ordered a pizza with mushrooms.

It wasn’t great. And now I have a crappy-pizza headache. Or maybe I’m breathing stale air. As a child, that was my greatest fear when falling asleep; that my little face would slip beneath the blanket and I’d choke on carbon dioxide. Not that the mirror was casting the reflection of a crane on the wall, which looked like an unforgiving bird of war to me.

Wait. Look at that. I can’t even form sentences right now. That pizza…

The point of the whole thing is that I think of Feldspar as the Earth’s crust’s nougat. 60%, by Jove, it makes up 60% and doesn’t contain an ingot of ore of any kind. Just smooth and creamy Feldspar.

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