Fake soup and children

It has been a tough week. Alone, infected and driven to the bone with work. What pulled me through. No it was not fake love this time round! It was fake soup. From its fake white chicken on a synthetic foil red packet that could have very well had a condom inside it, to the fake soup that had a fake smell of fake wholesomeness. Yet, for those who are for some "abnormal" socially deviant reason living alone or are too busy to boil the broth, that red foil was more valuable than safe sex.

The honest too goodness faux smell of the powder broth actually activated the receptor cells of my olfactory senses and duped my brain into considering unpeeling the red foil as a labor of love. Some evolutionary throw back to caring-for-the-brood-gene actually works when fake caring and the warmth of powder soup is cupped between the hands!

Keeping my sinuses intact, the other conversation that entertained by mucus clogged brain was fake children. The two lahori loves of my life, Rakae and Mehr have been mercilessly going on about children that I do not have, do not imagine and do not foresee in the future. Fake children. What possibly do their well intentioned words bring to me? They bring the promise that there can be someone who can be the seeder of thoughts of actual children and yes perhaps an actual sperm donor who will donate actual soup and actual coffee and make me want children one day.

So why do we do this? Put up with fake soup and children? Because the real ones are too hard to achieve in this libido and silicon driven book we rush through and because we might replace the fake with the real someday.