Being a graduate of the arts, I often find myself filled with a deep ennui. A sense of longing that remains unfulfilled by the everyday. Society is a burden upon my self-conscious, and the only escape I can find from this torment is within the realms of Shrove Moodsday. (It's a bit like interpretive dance, but with pancake related food items).
Lemons. Their zesty facade can't hide the truth of the bitterness beneath.
This mango coulis reeks of desperation. There's nothing cool about it.
It's not summer, berries. You're not fooling anyone. This mango is all too aware its not Coulis.
This Maple Syrup is living a lie. And everybody knows it.
This avocado and mozzarella desperately attempt to fit in. They don't. It's the start of a true tale of unparalleled desolation. The wine is all good though, despite being from different origins.
Bananas are depressing.
This pancake is a metaphor for myself. Bare. Empty. Smokin'.
Bacon is never ready to be there when you need it.
This pancake is desperate to be put out of its misery. It is consumed with a longing for the end.
Paincake.
Paincake Day.
Dear god what am I doing with my life. Happy Pancake Day y'all!
