Indulging my more ascetic desires.

I'm recently back from a sixty-something hour fast. While it was interesting observing my intelligence fade away, and my emotions subside to an obeisance to habit interspersed with moments of mania, it doesn't compare with laying in bed several hours after finally eating and marvelling as beautiful prose starts to fill my head again. It is enough to make me realize that I am as often to be found on a variety of fast during those times when I am eating regularly. The first meal after a long fast is always one of the best; previously I have fasted in part for the sake of that meal. However, I consider that now a bad reason.

I'm already thinking about the next time I remind myself that I like food... the end of a term seems a good time for it. I'll try for eighty hours next time.