And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said,
The words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence.
The Sound of Silence
I have eaten today, four pieces of rye bread and a rather mediocre french fry that I stole from Dave in a moment of mindlessness.
I’m not hungry either, at least not very.
Why haven’t I eaten?
I’ve been toying a while with the idea of fasting … it seems something truly … insightful? I don’t know quite what I expect out of it, but Gandhi advocated the fast as a tool that would help one attain spiritual enlightenment.
In the Order of the Arrow, “meager rations” are something an inductee will suffer during their ordeal … there seems something spiritual about hunger, I’m not sure what.
Hunger is not something we normally experience. At least, if we are hungry, most of us in the modern world, hell, most of us throughout the world, will eat something. What is it like to “go hungry”?
I don’t know.
You see, it’s a simple experiment … eat naught but two pieces of rye bread at the meals I’ve been at today, and drink water … simple, a sort of “purification” and denial of a physical pleasure. Much like clergy may take vows of celibacy … I’m not likely to do that any time soon, but I might try today a simple experiment with a short fast, and expand upon that if I feel there may be more value to pursue there.
I will break fast tomorrow at 1100h when I’m scheduled to meet Casey for lunch over at Busey-Evans.