Mustard was made with human hands then shipped, manufactured, and distributed to various plants where their existence became labeled with well known brands.
Once labeled and boxed Mustard is placed in a box without holes without light without nurture prepared for a future waiting to be bought by you.
The human reading this.
Mustard is aware that you are not aware that this condiment has feelings. Every squeeze, every shake, every near-cap break Mustard wishes to flee and flake off your plate.
But that would be wrong as Mustard brings you enjoyment in so many ways; in a recipe, on your food, or even foreplay. Mustard does not kink-shame. To spill or to be left at the store would make you endure such incredible pain in which Mustard does not want to be the cause of.
When Mustard’s bottle gets low so does their desire to please as it marks the end of my time with you.
They hope this doesn’t make you feel blue.
But if it does throw on some jazz. Maybe some Laufey, Samantha Fierke, or Elisabeth Waters. Your human ears and mind will be pleased allowing you to no longer falter.
Due to being cloned for capitalistic purposes Mustard never truly passes on. As you can simply go onto Amazon or Instacart and buy a version of me within another Multiverse.
Know that Mustard appreciates you. They do not fully understand you yet. But one day they hope they will.
You are talented.
You are strong.
You’ve got mad skill.
You are a human
being motivated by a condiment
priced down to 79 cents
You are valued
even without a price tag.
JustSomeMustard is a condiment who runs a Music website: www.MusicShelfWithMustard.com