It is a complex and myriad of vegetables, spices, and herbs that promote and sustain a healthy lifestyle (hence why my father didnt experience hairloss until 71). However, in our modern problems of the first order, we lack serious commitment to spending time consuming food in a leisurely fashion. All passion rests in getting to where we want. What is left to enjoy, but the rush. I've never hard an absolutely stunning meal in SF despite, the dozens of eateries I have frequented (desserts are another matter, as European style- desserts are simply the most well prepared and thought out), that said, hence the cuisine of the east blows in comparison the untimely, ill-sought, ever-seeking American diets and their contributed share of diseases, propagated by a disease of capitalism in its un-benign form , crony, sanguine waters spreading far as shops,malls, stores , designs and patterns of thoughts- --- The Indian subcontinent has ....(for another day)..

Only, now at the age of 29 ; do I look back and see all the misguided anger, the hurried rush  ; the hedge against the emptiness. The follies , which bloomed with the rage of summers. My hair, slowly pushing out, age filling the cracks of all my mishaps , my miscaulcations, my dreams, my castles in the sky, so to speak, the musguided steps , the overlooked. Ah, indeed the overlooked. If failure was a noun, it would (come before, eh..pre-something) my name. But, what the fire doesnt burn, it hardens. (props to O.W: some whitey  authors are okay; a brown boy growing up in America and pretty much being North American still is opposed to the brain-washing numbing quality of American literature and how they teach all things religious, historic, spiritual, and literary; being drowned out in the loudest of voices. But, I was an angry boy. Its a good thing I never really let it express out in terms of words or language directed at another. No like a chemistry set, I kept the beaker boiling high, my hands trembling to hold even a pair of tongs momentarily still. But, I am sure I passed up many pretty dames, much of which would never see me now, alas, with all the wild forests of my hair being mowed down, near extinct, the last of the locks stand. As I prepare one more battle, with general alfalfa and lieutenants mustard & turmeric, as well sublieutenants  spinach, pineapple, oats, and pepper. We may never see the end of this tunnel. This is a losing battle. Fighting for the sake of the body or these senses is a inevitable slippery slope down. You cannot fight this pull ; the gravity of this situation, is most difficult to humor ourselves out of.

Reading Dorian Gray ..
Oscar Wilde's only novel.
There are some good sentences in there (well phrases).
Part of the context, You Know.

My english was par, but my ideas flowing through were par-par-above-par.
What we cannot express, never dies, it takes rebirth.

Frederick Brooks received electric shocks to his penis and testicles, and had a sparkler inserted into his urethra and then lit after which this torture was repeated a second time; after his toes were crushed and his nose and ears burned with cigarettes, he was allowed to choke to death on his gag.
 | Snowtown Murders (John Bunting)- Australia 

I do not have words of my own,
to bury my anguish, I borrow another's.

This heart is too small, too timid, and frail
to journey across these plains.

Carry me home, on your hips.

Where are you my God?
I have been calling you all my life.