Cooking is a very dangerous thing to do. You just never know what happens next. Either the cooking oil will abruptly go boom or that the food you're cooking suddenly becomes jumpy, going from here to there like it was alive and kicking. It all is very much uncertain, not to mention traumatizing.
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.