Consuming consumer constantly consuming. Chocolate bars and microwaved meals. Distracting me from the unease that lies beneath. Death and anxiety. Sex and life. Consuming. Consuming. Constantly consuming the consumer. Eating my way through this existence. Gorging myself on life and death. Death eats me up like a Buttercup. ‘Why Don’t you fill me up Buttercup.’ Oops no soul music here. Consuming sounds. A river’s rush. Consuming through the senses but not the sixth which consumes all. Can I really say consume again? The question mark consumes. The question is the ultimate consummation. The point where we separate light from dark. No not literal light but the separation of ignorance from wakefulness. Consumer. Don’t say that word again.