Closing in on the 72 hour mark of my fast, I know what it is to be empty. I suppose black coffee will nullify the metaphysical experience I am supposed to have soon. Maybe I wasn’t even supposed to drink water. I didn’t read any rules. Oh well. It’s something I have done that isn’t easy and that, at least, is something. Although, as of now, it doesn’t seem to have been that hard. Eating is such a force of habit. Miss a few meals and drink water instead of snacking is a willful intention that is quite doable, I can see right now. I’m not even hungry as I write this, sipping fresh brewed black coffee, which is probably a deal breaker as far as the rule of this 3 day fast (and all will be revealed) goes.

I plan on praying late tonight before going to sleep and eating breakfast Wednesday morning to break this fast, since I did eat late on Saturday night, probably sometime between 10 and 11 so I don’t want to miss the cut off by an hour or something, best to go over by several hours. My focus is somewhat tunnel visioned. The world is bleak. As I said in my last blog, the feeling in my gut is the same anxiety that I’ve been feeling now for several months. I realize I am a coward, insofar as we have all become cowards. Although, I will never begrudge anyone else their freedom if they are bold enough to claim it among the rabble of human sheep going about their business with mandatory muzzles and averted eyes. I would even stand up for them, given the chance, I think. So, that is at least something as we have become the darkest possible iteration of our brothers keepers, similar to those who would turn in their neighbors, or even their own kin during pat times of societal schizophrenia in Lenin’s Russia, Mao’s China and Pol Pot’s Cambodia. Read history, this here and now is how it starts. The Green New Deal is the new color revolution, see the Red Brigades and the Khmer Rouge for context. BLM and Antifa will gladly receive their historic antecedents mantle.

As we give ground decade by decade, year by year and day by day I can’t help but think of Shakespeare’s Caesar saying: The coward dies a thousand deaths, but the valiant taste of death but once. I am not valiant. I have died a thousand deaths this year alone along with my fellow cowards here in New Mexico and said next to nothing. My feeble attempts to rouse some sense of independent spirit in others who see that I am absconding from the State’s mandates end in arguments where we are talking past each other, speaking but not hearing.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be some kind of new beginning. I don’t know what good what I’ve done has done. Sometimes it is just a matter of doing something else in the face of desperation. I will pray tonight and come what may.