How do I explain strawberry bootlaces?

Well. I suppose they are kind of liquorice... they are thin strands of red chewy stuff that's meant to taste like strawberry; but, just like every other strawberry "flavoured" thing, they don't really taste like strawberry. They're still delicious, however, and you can find them in plenty of shops, watching, waiting to catch a customer's fancy. So you see them, and you buy a pack, intending to share them, or at least make them last, but you end up eating the whole bag in an afternoon. Sated, you relax in the knowledge of a few pence well spent.

Then you realise when your parents call you in for dinner that there's no way you can manage a full meal after consuming such a quantity of confectionary, and that in this moment you are experiencing the exact mythical instance of "spoiling your dinner" about which you were warned so many times as a child, but it's too late now and you can't lose face by admitting your parents are right so you keep quiet and eat the whole meal and even have second and third helpings just to hide the shame that your parents can't see but you imagine is so evident in your every movement. Sweaty, nervous, you shovel every new mouthful of wholesome, home cooked family food into your trembling mouth and though you were full after just a few bites, you can neither spit it out nor stop eating. You spend the rest of the evening certain that you're going to either throw up or split at the sides and you go to throw away the wrapper, but you notice to your delight and horror that there is something in there still, something red and stringy; there is a single strawberry bootlace still inside the wrapper and in spite of your already full-to-bursting stomach and your sense of self-disgust you triumphantly peel the final sticky remnant from the pack and eat it savouring every last drop of artificial flavouring and knowing for sure that there can be no benevolent god that could allow such magnificent unhappiness to flourish in the form of a mere child's treat.

That, my friend, is a strawberry bootlace.

just before i died, my life flashed before my eyes.

but it flashed so slowly that i lived it all again.

and again and again..