Have you ever witnessed the life of an animal (your meal) slowly leave its body, through its cries for clemency, its rich red warm blood gushing everywhere. Well I have on more than one occasion, but Sunday I got real up close and personal with my meal.
This is the reason why some people are vegetarians - Hadron :)
The co-executioner sat on the concrete bench staring down the unsuspecting victim, the white sheep with patches of brown; contemplative of the next step while he sharpened his blade, slowly, deliberately, his demeanour composed. The damned sheep unruffled, I think it knew that this day had been pre-ordained by its version of our north wind, and it had seemingly accepted its fate.
It was ushered to the slaughter ground, unintentionally decorated with leaves, shrubs, mother natures factory of oxygen and the dirt from whence it came and to which it would shortly return.
The executioner straddled my meal, clasped its mouth with the weak hand and with the might of the other brought the blade to Mr. sheep's throat. As his arm moved back and forth the sheep initially did not move an inch; but as the blade penetrated the skin it felt the sting of the blade, the gush of warm crimson life leaving its body and hitting the ground, it panicked and screamed (barely). It was only at that point that a reconciliation of its fate and the realisation of the materialisation of that fate came crashing down on its tiny head like a ton of bricks.
Blood everywhere, fading cries, signs of departing life, the last kick of its legs was all that was left of it, my meal. Did it enjoy its time on this wretched earth, did it realise that today I would be consuming it and tomorrow return its unused parts from whence it came through fecal matter? Fuck no, I don't think so. 
And there it was, the ease with which life is lost, the ease with which I could witness this act and feel nothing. Not remorse, not nausea, no revolting feelings. Truth be told I found it amusing, entertaining even; and I could not wait to chop it up to pieces, season it and begin the consumption.
It was sought of metaphoric for me watching the slaughter of the sheep; and I thought to myself as I watched this act; the sheep is dead, no more ba ba ba in your muddacunt.
We are in a way like that sheep; we live this life, be it fulfilling or not; we accept kinda that we will not be here forever. But when that time draws near, regardless of how the grim reaper brings it, we are not ready and we try to fight the inevitable with every last breath and ounce of blood.
It's futile, we must all go. Enjoy your life while you still do have it, because we all eventually become food for the universe.
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