Confessions of a black hole

Pfff. Must have been a good couple million years ago now I finished eating that star. It was quite remarkable really; a binary star system practically fell into my lap. Six stars, a couple of dwarfs and a neat little asteroid belt. It kept me going for years, felt like a gift from the Gods.

I’d had a pretty bad dry spell you see – nothing interesting for a good few million. My accretion disc was starting to look pathetic, almost as bad as ol’ UVIS-63 out in the Hebrides. I was yearning for some good consumption – something to keep my belly full and my brain whirring for a while and that’s when it came.

Uninhabited, was the star system. Shame really, I’ve heard some good things about ‘organisms’ from my buddies out in the Milky Way – lots of antioxidants I think I read somewhere.

But alas, no biotic munch for me. In fact, munch, biotic or not, has been quite hard to come by recently. Ever since I sapped that star of all its hopes and dreams fuel has been lacking in every dimension. Space, time, whatever it may be, not a single, comet, stray satellite, or even shred of gas has come my way.

Back when I supernovaed I thought being a black hole would be an exciting new chapter of my life. I read all the self helps, listened to all the god damn podcasts but christ nothing beats the feeling of pure fusion.

Oh, how I long to be an innocent main sequence star, smashing together hydrogen all day long and getting a kick out of that ephemeral helium. Then when I became a red super giant, I thought I made it but in reality, all that came was a flood of responsibility.

Let me tell ya, their ain’t no high off fusing silicon. It was rough, and predictably, I crumbled. Boom. Supernovae. It was like a weight being lifted off my newly fused shoulders.

But then came retirement. From then on, it’s just been eat, eat, eat. I sit here in my squalid little corner of the galaxy gnawing on any little piece of space junk I can find.

Loneliness aside, the worst part of being a black hole that they don’t tell you – it’s the weight you gain. The obesity crisis is real you guys. I’ve put on so much weight I can literally feel time stretching around every crevasse in my ever-growing abdomen. Thank god I’m practically invisible cause if I were to look in a mirror I don’t even no what I would do. And I thought my body dysmorphia made me look bad back in 3 and a half billion BC.

If I’ve learnt anything from my years in this universe, it’s move. And yes, I’m quoting Anthony Bourdain. Always quote Anthony Bourdain. That’s another thing I learnt.