Earlier yesterday, during dinner, I couldn’t finish the food on my plate. I felt bad about it but I sincerely didn’t have the stomach for more. I probably shouldn’t have literally bit more than I could chew.
To be easy on myself, I was in fact served instead of helping myself with the stuff that I couldn’t even name. Hours later after leaving my table, I realize that I’m not unique in having leftover on the plate and I’m not entirely sure the server is at fault.
Then it came to me – the richer we are, the more we waste. To be precise as what has been implied in countless economic classes, the wealthier we are, the more we consume. However, though consumption itself produces waste, I’m talking about a different species of waste altogether. The waste I’m referring to is the things that are consumable but aren’t consumed and thrown out as filthy garbage nevertheless, just like the food I left on my plate.
I definitely expect better-off people to waste more than famine victims in Africa and elsewhere. I hold this but I still waste. It seems that I, no, we, are cursed to waste. Worse, I call myself a green – what a terrible curse it is. It’s painful to acknowledge this while knowing others would be willing to even eat our leftover if they were given the chance to do so, no matter how disgusting it is.
Perhaps, this is why I eat rather irregularly. Too scared to waste and too scared to violate my own principle. Yet, I violate it often and risk of being a hypocrite almost everyday. It’s the curse of an idealist I’d suppose.
