Boring doesnt exist

I hated Marie biscuits for all my life until age 30 and nearly 3/4′s. Until, shock-horror, for some reason it was the only available ‘candy’ to meagerly satiate the sugar craving my tongue had asked for. So. With much sulking, i swallowed. (The MARIE BISCUIT, you filthy, guttery minds). I hacked off the boring by adding marshmallows on top of the Marie, shoved it in the microwave and wow. NICE sugar rush for a desperate, seeking sweet satisfaction. Anyways. After the mallows ran out, I then began having them plain and tasting all the Marie had to offer. Believe it or not, it was dare I say…lovely. Not even an acquired taste, just giving the freakin’ biscuit a chance without judgement. Before, I smothered Nutella on a Marie biscuit to drown out the monotony of it during mastication and digestion… but I realised, sometimes, the most intense satisfaction, joy and beauty we find, can sometimes be by ‘accident’, revealed in the places we first judged damningly along with the majority of the masses. Am I still talking about Marie biscuit. Fucking yes. And no.