There is nothing more sorry than the sight of someone eating a doughnut. It is the sight of someone giving in to pure primitive pleasure. The sight of utter indulgence. Someone who is eating a doughnut has either just fought a battle within himself and lost, or he has already long ago fought the fight and failed—so that, when presented with the opportunity to eat a doughnut, he has already resigned himself to the puffy, fatty glazed ring of dough. For him, it is a forgotten battle that remains in his past, which—although the memory is likely lost and buried between the fatty layers of his mind—continues day by day to define him.
And that is the sight I saw yesterday when I went to Krispy Kreme and saw three sixteen-year-old boys slouched around a small table, dully attempting to overcome two dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts and a gallon of milk. Three boys who likely thought they had just won a battle. They had obtained two boxes of Krispy Kremes! But, in truth, they were being humiliated by their own carnal desires—and still gnawing at the very cause of their mockery, as if eating it would make it any better.
- Carly
5 comments:
Is that really how you spell the word? I want a donut!! Doughnut, eh? Hm..
Wait...what were you doing at Krispy Kremes?
You can spell it either way.
Actually, what I was doing at Krispy Kremes was: I was eating a doughnut. Actually, three. Haha!
Wow. that is a harshly overgeneralized first paragraph. Any time someone eats's a donut, that is what you think? Next time we have lunch, I'm going to bring donuts, and eat each one differently. And watch you judge me.
Haha, Charlotte. Just try eating each one differently. You'll look like the chubby kid from Matilda in my mind, no matter what you try.
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