I'm sorry, what.

You see that? Most people will see a skanky angry hippy, but it's actually the angry (and skanky) Meg I have become. "Why did you post a photo of yourself looking angry, you rim?" You might ask. In answer to that, you rude so-and-so, I needed to prove a point. Here's the story...

A couple-a days ago, no wait it goes back farther than that, a couple-a years ago, I deicided to stop eating meat, merely because the realisation struck me, like being pounded round the face with a pillowcase full of bars of soap, that I was eating corpses. Animal corpses, and it was wrong and it needed to stop. So it did. That was all, just that they were corpses. But in those two years, I've discovered a lot about the animal violence trade and there was a slow and sure transition to disgust in milk and egg, and thus I couldn't do it anymore and became vegan. Two years ago it didn't seem so serious. In the beginning I was okay with handling meat and stuff, but now I'm totally repulsed. The whole vegan thing is new to me, I've been on-and-off for about 6 months, and made the pledge just over a month ago, and now I wouldn't dream of going back. It feels good to have nothing to do with violence and death and, oh I could go on...

Okay, a couple-a days ago, I looked online for some nice cinnamon bun recipies (without animal stuff, ofcourse...) when I read about bone char. Bone char is animal bones collected off the abertoire floor and burnt to a crisp and used mostly in the sugar and flour industries to refine and purify the product. Nasty huh. I don't really remember the hour after this discovery because I went all-out batshit. Last time I accidentally ate gelatine I turned lunartic, screaming and crying and feeling poisoned and disgusted with myself and nearly induced vomiting, but my omnivore buddy stopped me.

To my omnivore buddy watching, it was "pathetic" I was "over-reacting" about my "difficult" eating habits, that aren't that important. Only others like me would understand, but anyway, back to the bone char. This time round, I was a little more composed, even though I totally threw one about my sacred tea with half a sugar and everything else that I've been unknowingly poisoning myself with, and very nearly threw the entire contents of my cupboards out. This time my anger was not centered on myself, because it wasn't necessarily my fault; it didn't occur to me that I should research literally everything I eat. Then, it occured to me that I probably actually do, because everything could be filled with shit. Us common people are too glad to not question, too glad to take everything as it is told to us and be fine with it. It literally makes no sense to me and I feel quite alone, as someone who has realised this and someone who doesn't want to take it anymore.

I still feel angry that the masses are unknowlingly and quite okay with the fact they're being poisoned on an every day basis and don't want to know any different... And I'm the nutter.

It depresses me that it is this way; as it really shouldn't be. We should have the trust, really, that the food on the shelves is as it is. But we don't know...

Those two years ago, I didn't realise what getting myself into! All the E-numbers and additives and shit, god. Don't get me started.

Seriously, no regrets. I'd rather feel alienated and know I'm doing the right thing, than be bowing down and unwittingly accepting my own demise or someshit. Even though, in this world, doing the right thing is very hard and frowned on.

Enough preaching, I think I've worn my little red-capped brain out. Until next time.

Unrelated, but Norway is lovely.