I’m in the middle of the final proofread for my new book, but my brain has turned to mush, so I need to take a break before I start missing obvious typos and stupid shit that’ll make me look like a jackass hack once I hit that publish button. I’ve come too far to half-ass my final polishing, just for the sake of quicker completion.
So how do I take a break from writing? By writing obviously…
A new blog post has been long overdue, mostly because 24 hours in a day doesn’t quite cut it for me anymore. But that’s bullshit of course. We always find time for the things we love. It will forever be our choice to prioritize one action over another.
The holidays were kick-ass fun, visiting family, and hanging out with good friends. But the new year has arrived, and it’s time to get shit together again. My traditional 10-day water-only fast, to greet another arbitrarily chosen calendar year, has quickly past the halfway mark, and I’m growing eager to suck back some fresh fruit juices, and hopefully parlay my new non-toxic habits into a lasting routine I can be proud of once again. Time will tell…
I’ve busted my ass the last couple weeks to ink the final illustrations for Original Sin, and I couldn’t be happier with how cheeseball and ridiculous it all turned out. When the first book proofs are ready, y’all will be the first to know…
As I begin Day 7 of the fast, I realize I have much to reflect upon. Firstly, food is not as critical to day-to-day survival as we’ve been led to believe. Normally when I do an extended fast, I do it with as much bed rest as possible, allowing the energies at my disposal to foster internal repairs. But this time round, stupid responsibility found me working 11-hour shifts for the first 5 days of my cleanse. Definitely not a preferred situation!
But ya know what? Aside from the ragey first few days at work when the worst of the toxins worked their way out of my body, I feel pretty fucking kick-ass. Not once did I feel overburdened physically, or ready to pass out as I carried on with my regular duties in Chuckyville, all in spectacular fashion of course. Okay, okay, maybe “spectacular” ain’t the right word, but I’m entitled to a little poetic licence here and there. It’s my fucking ego-driven blog. I’ll make up whatever bullshit I need to float my giant yellow boat.
On an even stranger fasting note, I still hit the gym every morning before work. Although I’ve dropped a few more pounds than I would have expected thus far, my muscle strength has not atrophied one bit. I’m still pushing the same weights before I started the fast — although in need of more rest time between sets. The body is a fascinating machine.
The second noteworthy part of this fast is the realization how much time I spend living for what’s next — my next stimulant, my next outlet, my next break, my next day off, my next hand-job (one thing that absolutely refuses to manifest). Having zero stimulants at my disposal — essentially nothing to “look immediately forward to,” aside from water — has been a reminder to ground myself in the moment again, something I continually struggle with, despite my pompous and preachy ramblings otherwise. Realizing everything that counts always takes place right here, right now, seldom fails to help alleviate the griefs and stresses of past and future scenarios that never truly exist.
Changing habits always seems to be a tough thing, but it really comes down to changing thoughts. More accurately, quickly quashing the unwanted thoughts that forever seem to percolate in our brains. If you don’t let one of those random word bubbles grow to completion by nurturing it, there’s no way you can act it out. You know what I call the strategy? Thought Abortion. That’s right, let everyone know I coined that phrase. You basically give a fresh brewing thought the ol’ coat hanger treatment before it develops, and never again will you be at the whim of undesired action. Let the embryo grow, and you’ll eventually get fucked with child-support payments.
You wanna change a habit? Simply make a new choice. Then keep choosing that new choice. Ain’t fucking rocket science.
Wow, I am a preachy fuck.
Anyway, back to the fasting thing…
Although my cheekbones at the moment may look to some like a starved waif living in a concentration camp, I think I resemble more of an exotic Icelandic god. Yeah, once again, my blog, my delusional bullshit, deal with it. But my body has leaned out into a chiselled work of art, dropping most of the fat-trapped salt and toxic shit that’s been stored up over my last year of poor lifestyle and dietary choices. I still have a few pounds of fat on my ass that will get me through to day 10, so I have no worries reaching my goal.
Current medical dogma would have expected me dead or in the hospital several days ago. But my decision to push the boundaries of human potential have proven otherwise. I’m thriving better than eating 3 squares a day, and I continually learn new insight into this freaky vessel I call my body.
Though completion may seem a bit far away at the moment, when I hit day 10 I’ll look back on how quickly the time went, just like we all do when reflecting upon the past. Before I know it, it’ll be boating season again, and time to ramp up Mission: Sail the World as an Incompetent Jackass Who Has No Fucking Clue What He’s doing.
I also need less and less sleep each night. Yesterday I went to bed at 9, waking up thinking it was around 5 AM. My internal time clock is normally pretty bang on, but when I checked my phone, I learned it was only midnight. WTF? Three hours of sleep that felt like 8? Wild shit. That’s what happens when the body has no need to expend energy digesting black bean burgers and quinoa fries. Neato.
Of course there’s more fun shit to ramble about, but it’s time for sleep.
Let’s end this on a quote from good ol’ Ferris:
Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
Fuckin’ ay.
Or is it A? Or eh? I dunno. I guess I ruined that moment.
Whatever.
Next post? That’s right, official announcement of the release of Original Sin.
Woo!
Peace out.
P.S. I just went 24 hours without drinking water as well. Fuck you science!
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