The farmers market more than lived up to it’s expectation as a green, liberal arts, alternative safe haven, in the inner suburban grey, renowned for it’s shopping centre lifestyle and polyester-clad teen mothers. Smug with hand picked organic pride, I snacked on exotic carrots of purple and green and white, heirloom tomatoes, radishes and a medley of fancy ruffled greens dressed liberally in apple cider vinegar. A desert of the purest organic chocolate and a slice of lime in a handmade tumbler filled with the delicate effervescence of a home brewed ginger ale topped off the sun bathed afternoon perfectly.
‘If only I had nice someone to share this terrific abundance with,’ I thought, drunk with satisfaction, I was… actually drunk. I realised that it was an odd kind of, heart racingly, whirlwind of energy, misplacing steps and thinking far too quickly, kind of drunk. And I didn’t like it at all. I was loosing control like that time I ate a bag of dates and told my house mate exactly what I really thought of everything, all at once.
Palpitations, I was having palpitations! My heart was going a-thump-thump a bump-bump through my chest like it would after climbing a hill on bike, but I hadn’t left the kitchen. I was to find out that this was because I was a special kind of person. I had a sensitive new age sensitivity to salicylates. I knew that gluten could made me stoned via morphine like proteins locking into overactive opiate receptors in my special brain, but salicylates making me drunk was new.
I pondered about how I was able to become drunk and stoned off unrestricted chemicals available to those of all ages. What if everyone was like this? Constantly effected by the chemicals they ingest, and it dawned on me that they probably were. Only most people don’t know it was food and just get labeled with a behavioral disorder. The hyped up, go go go, not thinking straight, can’t focus, silly drunk feeling I’m experiencing could be ADHD. When I’m out of it, removed from consciousness, staring at walls, can’t relate to others, focusing on infinity, stoned, like I get while eating bread, that’s not far off autism. Maybe I had just had a first hand account of how diet and mood can be linked.
Armed with this knowledge of how everyone can improve their lives through highly restrictive dieting, I was now going to be the most annoying friend ever.