Free+Write

Matt Brune was tall, handsome, and black; he lived an easy life and had (looking from the outside) everything going for him at age 26. After a stomach stapling, a quintuple gastric bypass, and five years of weekly liposuction, Matt overcame an irregular and extreme obesity stint, growing from being 175 pounds at age five, to 685 pounds at age twenty. (Matt suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder and is able to only record numbers in intervals of five.) Now the CEO of __Mobile Products, Ltd.__, Matt resides in a large mansion, makes nearly $500,000 yearly, and has truly got the hoes all on him. Despite the above listed accomplishments, Matt suffers from not only OCD, but, in part due to the compulsive disease, is also an irregularly uptight man. Three Prozacs a day, various legal and illegal drugs, all-natural and herb supplements, debauchery, and regular visits to assorted whore houses were never able to push his nerves into submission. He lived a day-to-day worried and nervous life. The incessant and unconquerable stress that encompassed Matt's life led him to a fate far worse than his various OCD clinics ever predicted or even imagined. The hydrochloric acid solution secreted from within one's stomach to decompose and digest meals is released also from stress. As you may have already deducted, his stomach organ filled itself overflowingly with the acid. The corrosive characteristics of the acid worked against the weak protective lining of his stomach, slowly but very surely melting it away to nothing. It was finally on February 25th Matt found, during his monthly CT Scan, that his stomach was finally able to be considered medically nonexistent; his esophagus dropped his chewed, half-digested food into a swiss cheese sack, degraded to the point it could no longer hold and continue to digest his food. This mildly severe medical emergency led Matt to hospitalization in order to receive interveineous feeding as he could not receive nutrients when his stomach lost most of his food through the various holes. Now incarcerated to his angelic white hospital bed and annoyingly calming baby blue-walled room, Matt was left with his sole comfort to come from Oprah, Dr. Phil, and other various day-time shows. Sadly his inescapable medicined prison didn't suppress his stress as one would assume. Instead, his inability to do anything surmounted his stress to an all-consuming black hole, poisoning his life and taking away any meaningful thought he could hope for.
 * February Uno**


 * April Tres**