Monera Mason is a mischief-maker.  Her work includes: starting questionable cults with notorious software gurus, writing abstract fiction, catalyzing shenanigans which she deploys on unsuspecting bystanders in the City of Neon. 

Black Fasting

The only black Friday indulgence was a three day cleanse from Nektar. I wanted to reset my system through masochism and greens.

Day one found me at a social event surrounded by delicious libations and scrumptious temptation in the form of cheese. I stayed firm and sipped on my calming greens while talk of brie bubbled around me. As the hunger hit my mind tried to convince my body that the parsley notes and previous adventure into turmeric were almost like a curry. I found myself at dinner later that night sipping tea and feeling accomplished.

Day two was a networking lunch and volunteer festival. I was about to wear my networking cap sans coffee. Given the amount of preparation, my mind needs to flip the switch between introvert and extrovert; I was worried about my ability to be on — a room full of catered lunches and hundreds of people to talk to armed only with beet juice and lemonade. My system made all kinds of growling complaints, and the handfuls of macadamia nuts did not seem to alleviate the need to chew food. Winter juice fasts also come with the desire for eating anything warm. The ice bath of fasting liquids shocked the insides into colorful pallets of waste. I pulled through and at the end of the day faced my nemesis: the protein drink which tasted like cookie dough with the consistency of snot. Caloric desperation had me drink about 1/8th of the bottle before my gag reflex overcame.

By day three hunger subsides into a minor grumble and it was honestly tricky even to finish four of the juices. You become one with starvation and the delusions of grandeur prickle at the brain. You can imagine yourself in the white robes of a yogi blessing the new followers who have joined you in enlightenment. You start to wonder if you should continue on the five-day path. Everything seems simple now. The day was spent reading philosophy and writing. Contemplating silence as time stretched infinite . Do we even need to eat? Can our souls be nourished from just the honeyed words of the divine?

Upon waking the morning after the fast, I realize that steak sounds so good right now. When does my favorite breakfast spot even open?

Glitch

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