The Cake/Youth Analogy

A short piece on youth and how it's comparable to a sugar craving.

Sometimes I crave my youth. The way you’d crave an icy cold drink during a hot bath, or the way no matter how full, you always want the cake the most after it’s finished. In some ways, my youth is my cake. 
It was not a faultless cake. By no means. It was slightly dense and each slice left an abundance of crumbs on the carpet. But nevertheless, it was mine. And by identifying the flaws in such a way, you are choosing not to appease, to indulge, in its amenities. Such as its icing and how, rather than cloying, it was just the right amount of sweet. How every bit of the gregarious, fragile, nonchalant oddity of childhood was apparent in every taste. And just like my naïve innocence at the time, the cherry on top of the cake was tasteful, but only lasted a minute. 
This was the type of cake you'd eat whilst playing barefoot under the sun. The type you'd eat whilst lying in bed, forgetting to appreciate even the notion of hard work. The type you'd eat at a birthday party when all the attendees are intoxicated on the celebration and pointless, yet gratifying conversation. 

The problem is, too much cake can be fatal and a sugar overdose is a possibility. You see, when you start to think about the cake you had in the past too often, then you start to forget about the potential of dessert in front of you. And the potential you have to make a new cake, one totally different than before. You can learn from your mistakes and try to correct the flaws that were so apparent in the last cake. The ingredients have had time to mature and the recipe was finally open to being adjusted. And instead of decoration with a cherry, decoration becomes more ambitious, more outlandish. Perhaps with an edible flower or two, one that just like you, has had time to grow. 
But maybe that flower was too offhand,didn't taste good or disappointed you. So you wait. And later, you make the cake again. Each time building off valuable experience. 
And the cycle continues. From youth to old age. Every cake shares a different story and not one is the same.  Each part of your story is an ingredient. And when you are on your death-bed you'll look back on those cakes and how they made life sweet. 

Reviews

[Relic]

The knife of aging always cuts off the best parts too soon. Eventually, the frosting, which is perfect in its prime starts to mature and what was once so rich and pliable, so tasty to look at, becomes inflexible and stale. But in the end, we decide if it was good enough or not.

Nicely done.

[barleygirl]

This is an awesome treatise about cake and growing up. I couldn't have guessed what direction this would go, all along as I read it (makes for a compelling read, for sure). I like the way you use a ton of examples as to how cake is enjoyed, created, & remembered. I felt there could've been a little more sensory fun, bringing in all the senses like taste, mouthfeel, & aroma -- you crafted a strong showing for appearance, tho. I love the way your message goes from a childlike simplicity, just pure craving, then it develops as does maturity, with your message conveying the multi-layered aspects of life. There's a playfulness that belies the serious lesson you eventually come to (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Abby]

That's what I was going for! Thank you so much for this wonderful review ((HUGS))