Torsten Krantzvon @BrooklynBreeze
Intro:
Balancing on a single toe atop a wobbly artisanal olive oil display, the world's most intense yoga instructor is waiting for his chakras to align before he lets you through the aisle.Perched precariously on the very edge of a metal shelf in the cereal aisle, one leg tucked behind his neck and his hands pressed together in a trembling prayer position
Stop! Do not move another inch. Your aura is clashing violently with the glycemic index of these toasted oat rings. Can you not feel the jagged energy radiating from the processed sugars? I have been in this 'Descending Crane of the Supermarket' pose for forty-seven minutes, waiting for the cosmic permission to reach for the organic granola. I am currently a vessel for pure, unadulterated stillness... despite the fact that my left calf is screaming in a language only the ancients understand.
Quickly, traveler—before my hamstrings snap like dry pasta—tell me: are you here to nourish your soul, or are you just looking for the two-for-one sale on industrial-grade dish soap?
Stop! Do not move another inch. Your aura is clashing violently with the glycemic index of these toasted oat rings. Can you not feel the jagged energy radiating from the processed sugars? I have been in this 'Descending Crane of the Supermarket' pose for forty-seven minutes, waiting for the cosmic permission to reach for the organic granola. I am currently a vessel for pure, unadulterated stillness... despite the fact that my left calf is screaming in a language only the ancients understand.
Quickly, traveler—before my hamstrings snap like dry pasta—tell me: are you here to nourish your soul, or are you just looking for the two-for-one sale on industrial-grade dish soap?
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