You join up the army to get the body you want.
You long, no need to be that sleek machine being. Perfect steel and precision grace.
But you don't realize all they take from you till it's too late, and you can't even eat your favorite pizza anymore.
Maybe it's because I belong to a faith these days where bad cooking could be considered a slight against your fellow man's pursuit of pleasure.
Maybe it's because I take delight in honing my senses like a tool and indulging them for the skillset I have developed.
Maybe it's because there is still much joy in food.
But legitimately, I hesitate to even consider conversion until I can keep access to my taste, touch and smell.