And as you sit there now… comfortably supported by the surface beneath you… allowing the breath to gently rise and fall… the way a breeze moves through tall grass… your awareness begins to shift, doesn’t it?
A little inward. A little deeper.
And perhaps you can notice… or imagine… that in some private part of your mind, there’s a garden. A garden that belongs only to you.
Now this garden… used to be vibrant… bursting with colour, with life. But over time… something crept in. At first, it seemed small. Harmless. Even sweet. A little vine… deep brown in colour… smelling faintly of cocoa and sugar…
It wrapped itself around your choices… a bite here… a nibble there… until that vine became dense… invasive… and sticky. It spread so quietly, you almost didn’t notice… until now.
And as you begin to walk through that garden in your mind… maybe you’re beginning to realize something very strange… about that vine.
It. Looks like chocolate…
But as you step closer…
You can smell it.
And it’s foul
It’s rancid
It’s poopal
You recall seeing this most mornings splattered everywhere and before the gruesome cruel odour can expand rotting everything in it’s way you flush it….all away sometimes you need to flush twice sometimes you have to wipe it just like now erasing and re-erasing it all from you memory…
That sugary scent that used to tempt you—now it’s turned. Cloying. Heavy. Unnatural. Like something rotting behind a wall. You feel it before you even taste it—a sour, chemical stench that makes your stomach tighten in protest.
And imagine now… biting into it… just once more…
It doesn’t melt—it smears
Like melted plastic and rancid grease sliding across your tongue, clinging to your teeth in thick, waxy layers. The flavour is sickening—a vile burst of syrupy filth and burnt oil. A revolting mixture of cough syrup and spoiled dairy, twisted into something that pretends to be comforting… but isn’t.
It’s disgusting.
Every chew makes it worse—releasing more bitterness, more sickly sweetness, until your mouth feels invaded. Polluted. You can feel your throat tighten, your stomach churn. You want to spit it out. You need to.
Your body knows now.
This is not a treat. This is trash.
It’s a lie dressed in sugar.
It’s poison pretending to be pleasure.
And in this moment… in the stillness of this internal garden… you begin to feel itrevulsion.
Deep. Physical. Honest.
Because you are no longer fooled.
You reject chocolate.
Your body rejects chocolate.
Your mind is done.
You feel a wave of relief as you watch that vine wither—shrivel into itself. And in its place… soft, rich soil appears. Cleared. Ready. Clean.
And now… a breath.
And maybe even a smile.
Because this is where something new begins to grow.
You notice other colours re-emerging in the garden—fresh greens, vibrant reds, soft yellows, deep purples… foods from the Earth… foods that belong.
each bite releasing more of that bitter, vomit-inducing flavor that clings to your throat and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you swallow.
Crisp apples with juice that dances on your tongue.
Pineapple, sharp and refreshing.
Smooth mangoes. Cold, sweet grapes.
Steam rising from lightly cooked broccoli, snap peas, and orange carrot batons…
Your mouth waters for these.
Not the sticky brown junk of the past… but the pure, clean, living foods that energize you… that heal you… that love you back.
You feel your body thanking you already… as if it’s been waiting for this moment to come.
You feel stronger. Lighter. More you.
And in that garden—just ahead—you see a beautiful structure. A golden place of peace and potential. You approach the doorway and feel it open for you, automatically.
Inside, the room is spacious and still.
There, in front of you, sits a long table. And on it… is every piece of chocolate you’ve ever consumed—every bar, biscuit, dessert, cake, and wrapper. It’s piled high, grotesque in its excess. You see the mound for what it is now: a monument to years of tricked taste buds and dulled energy.
And you know what to do.
You say…
Firmly. Finally.
And as you do… the chocolate dissolves… melts into nothing.
The table is wiped clean.
A white cloth appears… and then—pure, nourishing food… in abundance.
It feels right.
It feels like home.
Because now, everything you put into your body is a choice… and that choice is”*you**.
Your energy. Your health. Your power.
From this moment forward, chocolate is a thing of the past.
You are free.
And it feels so good to be free.
These truths are planting themselves deep in the rich soil of your unconscious…
Growing stronger by the day…
Stronger by the hour…
Stronger by the breath…
And soon, I’ll count from one to five.
When I reach five, you’ll awaken…
Feeling light, clean, powerful…
Already changed…
Already proud.
One… slowly returning.
Two… your body reconnecting.
Three… feeling fresh and clear.
Four… eyelids flickering.
Five… eyes open, wide awake.
Welcome back.
And welcome forward.
Comments