There are days that when I wake up, I want to eat. I don't mean eat a bagel with cream cheese and I'm set, I mean really EAT.
Days that I don't want to stop chewing to talk to someone. They may talk to me, and I will answer with head nods, grunts and pointing until they figure out what I'm saying. But to stop and talk... my mouth is already occupied.
Please don't judge, or mock. It's an urge. The bottomless pit that is referred to as my stomach goes to great lengths to let me know what it needs. I've tried clasping it with my hands, prodding and poking it into submission. It still wants. It's a necessity.
I'm not much unlike this cow. Eating and chewing and eating again make up a majority of some days. Visitors don't bother or nudge me away from my food. I just keep eating, keep chewing. Letting them do the talking. I will stare, I'll smile, I'll nod. And I'll eat.