Some people are grounded. You can tell this immediately from the flash in their eyes and their first words. But then they may be working on a different wavelength, which can be hard to negotiate. Others are attractive, and you think they may be okay, but you feel obliged to laugh at their jokes. Will this get in the way, you ask yourself? Perhaps it can change once you get to know them better? But eventually, the false laughter produce a friendship that lies like a fallen apple with sweetness clustered in one spot, bitter and rotten around. And so you go taking bites from all the apples, trying to eat your fill, but wishing that you might find one entirely ripe, sweet.
You scour the orchards, move into the vegetable garden. Hey, there, look at that ripe vegetation. You take a bite, revolted with its bitterness. Maybe the bitterness becomes tasty when cooked with the herbs of time. You watch outer layers wilt sweetly like the blackened leaves of a buttery baked brussel sprout. Covered in garlic and butter delicious, those crispy, tasty layers fall off and leave a greener core still tasty, more substantial.
-A post postmodern excerpt, by Daniel Adler