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    10 months ago

    I started fasting thanks to my childhood hero’s unintended advice. I’d seen him around all the time but never managed to talk to him as a kid. Even after he’d improved, he was still frequently blue but became elated at the mere mention of fasting. He could go on about it for ages, bragging and joking.

    All the friends in the world couldn’t break his unhealthy lifestyle, but they certainly tried. His best friend Miles in particular tried everything to get him to eat well, but concern can’t overcome inertia, only aid you in doing so.

    The 90s were a rough time for him and I sincerely believe that fasting saved his life. I caught a glimpse of him back then standing on the sidewalk with a hotdog in each hand, chili dripping off his face, belly distended and groaning like a ship losing rivets, surrounded by worried faces. His eyes shot open as he finally overcame inertia. He said to no one in particular the words that changed my paunchy little life. “Gotta go fast.”