There were chants. There were robes. There was a moment where I may have declared myself “The Orb That Holds All Hunger.”
But I’ve done the work. I’ve un-culted. I hold soup now. I’m very chill.
My therapist says if I stay neutral-glazed and low-profile, they might let me back into the cabinet.
Anyway – namaste. Please don’t say the trigger phrase.