My sweet treats will not be found by them. They are mine and only mine. I treat them very good, yes, very good. I give them food. I give them sunlight for one hour. I kiss them often. They are my sweet treats to eat and sweet treats need love and care and kisses and hugs BUT they cannot have too much or else I get sad when I eat them so only a few kisses and hugs and love, enough to make them nice and sweet to eat.

Sometimes I think people know about my treats no I know they know because they all stare at me when I go to the store or when I go to work or I walk around the park. They stare because they see how strong my sweet treats have made me and they want to know how to get strong like me but they will never know because my treats are just for me.

Sometimes I think sad things when I have to make my treats, I think about their soft fur, their funny sounds. I wish I didn’t have to eat them NO I don’t wish that I wish they didn’t make me feel so bad for eating them but I have to eat them that’s what they are for.

Sometimes I think about how things use to be. I wish I lived in the world where sweet treats roamed free and sweet treats were at the store, I don’t really like the stuff that comes out of the treats and cleaning all the treats all the wet stuff I have to clean and clean and clean but “nothing is really clean” is what I say to myself when I clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and clean and