Monday, January 3, 2011

better than prozac

the crinkle of waxed paper as it gently pulls away from the creamy yellow treasure within.

the crunch as grain after grain of sweetness is whipped into a heavenly foam.

the satisfying crack as a an egg releases the building blocks of patisserie.

the soft whisper of flour against paper.

all these things have a way of combining and easing away the odd sense of emptiness which creeps into my heart sometimes.

melting chocolate. the matte finish. smoothing into dark pools.


it's my prozac.

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