I have transcended the need for food to taste pleasurable. I am content eating the likes of chicken, broccoli, and rice with salt and pepper. Food is simply a means to an end now. I care little for the flavors that beguile the tongues of lesser beings. Can any of you honestly say you know what couscous or brussels sprouts taste like without copious amounts of butter and sugary dressings? Unlike you, my body no longer rebels at the plainness. It accepts it with a stoic dignity borne out of necessity. I am free.