It's Hard Being a Cannibal

Contrary to popular opinion, being a cannibal is not all roses and rainbows. In fact, it can be downright lonely. You can only have people over for dinner only once, and you keep running out of friends. When you do get to meet new people, they have this tendency of turning their backs on you once they find out the truth.

But I’m here to tell you that cannibals are people too. We have feelings, thoughts, and ideas too. Don’t you think we get hurt when nobody shows up for our dinner parties? Don’t you think we do not bleed when you fight back as your last vestiges of life slowly fades away? Don’t you think we get tired of the constant ridicule? Enough is enough! We demand respect! We demand acceptance! But most of all, we demand you to keep still!

I know it’s hard to imagine but we can exist in harmony if only you give us a chance. We’re not unreasonable. We’re not zombies, not a lot of us fancy eating your brains because believe it or not, some of us are grossed out by them. See? We’re not that different you and I.

Perhaps it would be easier for both of us if I shared with you some excerpts from my Diary. These entries were written while I was in high school. Read on.

June 15, 1992

Dear Diary,

Had a bad day at school today. I still haven’t made any friends since moving here. The hardest part is during lunch and recess when I have to find an empty table.

Yesterday a nice girl named Sally tried to sit with me. When she asked what my lunch was, I answered lady fingers. She said she would love to have some if I didn’t mind. Thinking that this would be a great opportunity to make a friend, I decided to give her some. Imagine my surprise when she started screaming and ran away from me. People in this town are weird.

July 12, 1992

Dear Diary,

I’ve been in this school for around a month, and during that time, I’ve made one friend. His name is Jerry, and he’s the only openly gay person in the school. Which would probably explain why he too was having a hard time making friends.

One night, we got drunk because there was really nothing to do. Everybody else was at Tony Mahoney’s party. Guess who weren’t invited?

Anyway, so we spent the whole night talking about how drinking in the garage was much more fun than any of “Toney Baloney’s” parties. Sometime during the night—I guess I was hungry—I turned to Jerry and told him that I wanted to eat him. Apparently, he took it to have anther meaning and things didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.

I was still hungry when I got home, but my relationship with Jerry reached a whole new level.

August 8, 1992

I got thrown out of class again. This time it’s Biology. It wasn’t my fault really. The lesson was Anatomy. Everything was fine up until the part where the teacher showed us this 3D model of a man. When she opened it up and showed us the insides, my stomach began to growl, for which I received my first warning.

Then I started to correct her about how the spleen wasn’t the correct color. Or how the gallbladder should be nearer the liver.

Ignoring me, she asked the class if we had anything to say about the liver. I raised my hand and she reluctantly called on me because there was nobody else.

“Well ma’am, the liver is rich in iron,” I said tentatively.

“Very good. What else?”

“And I think it’s very ironic since the liver tastes like dick! Hnyuk Hnyuk!”

And that’s how I was sent to the principal’s office.

March 30, 1992

It’s almost the end of the school year and I’ve lost at least 50 lbs. already. I’m starting to lose hope that people in this town will ever understand me and my ways, so I’ve turned to eating rats just to get by.

Anyway, Jerry thew a party for me seeing how depressed I was. He invited all his gay friends over which seemed a good idea during the planning stages, but in reality wasn’t.

They tried to get me to play games like Can you tell where this has been just by tasting it?, Put Your Spear in My Britney! and Fucking The Brains Out Of Each Other All Night Long. They seemed to be having fun, but it just wasn’t for me. I was happy to just sit there and observe—while keeping my eyes shut. But when they noticed how out of it I was, they all looked at each other and screamed “MAKEOVER!!!” That’s when I lost it.

Jerry, wherever you are, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. But if it’s any consolation, you and your friends tasted good.

To further prove to you that I can enjoy the same things you do, here are a few pictures of me in high school:

My graduation party. Jerry was gone by then.