Today, I felt hunger. A deeply yearning carnal desire to consume a sustenance so as to sustain the body.

  Such a feeling was enriching to the soul, and brought upon many untold thoughts to the precipice of the mind. Thoughts of reality and matter, and if all is contained in one place, and if anything really matters at all. I pondered upon these subjects, and realized their grave meanings. Should thoughts such as these really fill the soul? Do they truly belong within our condemning consciousness? I desired, no, neededanswers to these questions. Answers that would not be given begrudgingly, unless told within the confining bounds of our own minds. Our brains. Such fragile organs, encapsulated by liquid and bone. Such things can derive better meanings, and answer greater questions, than any man-made computer that lays upon the earth. Such things are greater in complexity than they themselves can even understand. They are the holders of our consciousness, and the deciders of all things that we do.

  They can answer the questions.

  When hunger occurs, it is the brain demanding the need for sustenance, as it implies that we lack it, and that we need to fuel the body of such sustenance to continue living.

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  When such sustenance fails to be consumed, the brain desires it more, and leads us to be unhappy in our lack of essential nutrients, and as such, imagine many unhappy things.

  Such things are imagined quite rarely, and give many that are aware, the true notion that they are hungry, and desire food.

  Many others, unaware, believe their irascible mood is simply caused by outside feistiness, and not their own personal grievances.

  Fortunately, I belong to the former group, and I am able to instantly pinpoint whenever I desire food, through this queer way.

  These thoughts course through my brain, leading me to believe that at this exact moment, I truly am lacking in necessary sustenance. Hence, hungry.

  Albeit, I think many a man can agree that if they gain even the slightest of view of my current presence, they would use little to no thought to reach the same conclusion as I.

  I am deprived of food. My body, thin to the bone, crinkles around itself and pulses lightly every moment or so, for the veins bulge, nearly past the thin flaps of skin.

  I have been sitting here, many an hour, my consciousness lamentably staying upon me, as I slowly, slowly, die.