Belly Full O' Lemonade - Reflections on Day 4

So, four days have passed and my body is finally in the expelling stage. I am just leeching out gunk. It's not bad actually. It is more like a lightness of being. I'll tell you one thing though, being psychologically hungry really beats down any sort of anxiety. I was in town and I just didn't care. Fighting the desire to eat takes up so much energy you just don't care much about other people. This led to a parking altercation where I had to give someone the finger and physically lift up the motor bike of someone who parked really really bad.

Energy-wise, my head gets very dizzy whenever I get up from lying down a long time. It's my anemia and it can be bad to the point where my eyes black out. Despite that I ran around doing errands all day. I feel really relaxed to the point where I can hold my hands steady without them shaking much - they always shake a lot! Later on I need to juice lemons so I am R&R'ing a bit before undertaking that task (12 lemons to fill up my gallon jug). I have to juice 6 extra lemons for my family. They've been drinking my lemonade as if it were just regular juice. It's very tasty, and sweet, but regular juice would be watered down a lot more. I suppose it is the fact that I freshly juice the lemons. I doubt most people get to enjoy fresh squeeze lemonade and all the health benefits that go with it. So I am happy they are drinking it, cayenne pepper and all, but I have to warn them to stay away from my batch. I'm making them their own stuff and am using agave nectar instead of maple syrup.

Tomorrow is my 5 day half point. In celebration I am using Grade B maple syrup in my lemonade. So tonight I watered down the rest of my lemonade in my jug and am downing it all tonight to make way for a nice new fresh batch with the more nutritious grade B.

Day 3

So,

It is the start of Day 3. I'm looking forward towards tomorrow and the reported "loss of interest in food." I've been taking everything in stride. As mentioned before, I already ate raw; in addition, I have many food allergies, so regular food doesn't tempt me. One thing I have noticed is that things smell very appetizing. My family had a cookout yesterday and the chicken and boiled corn smelled wonderful. I found this funny because I haven't eaten chicken in over five years and I strictly do not touch corn. So I enjoyed the smell and joked about it with my better half as we sipped our lemonade and later as we juiced more lemons.

So, let me give you an account of the past two days:

Day 1: Ran around looking for more organic lemons to juice (our preferred grocery store was closed). I also had driving lessons. I was cranky and uptight and my instructor criticized me for that. lol. Later on I hung out with my better half and we watched Dr. Who. I was a little tired, but being with each other and being able to relax I eventually felt revitalized. That evening I drank a laxative tea so that I wouldn't have to be running to the bathroom during the day. Didn't have any movement that night or next morning.

Day 2: Of course, the cookout and making more juice. My brothers and father seemed very interested in doing it. I look forward to coaching them when they're ready, if ever. I had a lot of tiredness on this day. I tried to do school work but ended up fast asleep. I didn't fret, that is why my better half and I choose this holiday weekend to start our fast - so that the first two days we could have without responsibilities as they are the roughest when the detox symptoms are most felt. I went to bed early this night, around the same time I did the night before. Well ... I see it as early now, but in the past this was my normal bed time. So I guess I am finally getting a proper 8 hours rest again. :D Drank my laxative tea, but still no movement. I did go overboard with flushing my system last week Wedensday and so that could be why, but I will give it time and drink a stronger dosage tonight because I have been playing it safe with my tea..

Things I've learned so far /Some tips for anyone else who wishes to do this fast:

1) Before going on a fast, any fast, don't just jump into it. Gradually progress into it. Maybe reduce the amount of food you eat, or just eat fruit for a day or two. Try restricting your eating hours. Doing this will make the first three days of your fast much much more bearable. (My better half is having headaches and hunger pains and such right now, but I am only tackling with tiredness)

2) Get a juicer. Don't buy premade lemon juice or orange juice (the oj is for the two days you go off the fast), even if it is organic, unless it was juiced that very same day. If not, pull up your sleeves and start juicing the lemons and oranges yourselves. Why? Freshly juiced produce is much more enzymatically active. Also, most pre-juiced products are pasteurized and thus most of the enzymes have been rendered inactive by the high heat. Oh yes, pre-juiced may contained additives like extra sugars, preservatives and colors, and it may even be from concentrate. Taste-wise, freshly juiced is ALOT better. If all your going to be ingesting is lemonade for the next ten days, drinking something that taste good and is highly nutritious to stave off hunger pains is desirable.

3) This brings me to my next point - buy REAL maple syrup. Aunt Jemima or Ms Buttersworth are not real maple syrup. The real stuff will run you 7-10 bucks per 8 oz bottle (or at least on my isle). If you can buy big ol' bulk bottles, do so. Organic maple syrup is the best, of course, but as long sa you can find the real deal, that should be good enough. Organic is good because they tend not to use formaldehyde to extract the sap from the tree. Frankly though, if you can get your hands on Mennonite Maple Syrup, then fuck you cause that stuff is the best maple syrup I've ever tasted and I can imagine it would be the best for this particular fast.

4) You get used to the cayenne pepper, so don't fret. I'm a die hard cayenne eater, so this wasn't a problem for me. Some products are spicier than others, usually the redder and grainier, the hotter, or at least from what I've seen. So research and compare. If you can't take it too spicy, try a milder cayenne. If you're a trooper, get the good spicy version. Do increase your dosage as you get used the spice (my first time drinking the lemonade I coughed from the spice. lol. Now I'm adding more in because I don't find it spicy enough). Wish my younger sister could understand this ...

Blasted Fast Part Deux

Hey!

So, I have changed my plans. These past three days I've been quasi fasting. Today I've eaten regular meals. The change is that tomorrow I will do a full fledge 10 day master cleanse fast instead of the cycles for ten days. This is a better route, and I have support in the shape of my better half. He is doing it as well and everything should be kosher as we moderate each other. He is actually the reason for my change of plans because it was he felt I should start over and do it properly with him. Coolness.

Blasted Fasting and Raw Food Diet

So I figured it was time for me to fast it out, starting today.

I'm trying that ten day Lemon Aid fast, with some modifications - mainly I'm keeping my tea and nut milk thank you, at least for the first few days until I am used to it all.

Lately I've embraced a raw food diet. I'm reaching for at least 90%. I've been trying to go raw for two years now. It all started two summers ago. I was all raw for those 3 months of summer, surviving off of fruit and dropping to 120 pounds. Now I want to do my raw food diet the right way. I got informed via reading David Wolf's highly inspirational "Eating for Beauty" two months ago and have been eating raw pretty steady since then.

Why fast? Fasting helps to clean out your body of toxins. Your body begins using and its stored adipose fatty tissues and releasing whatever is stored inside of it. In this tissue you have fat, which is a storage molecule. It's cells are mainly filled with fluids which can hold all matter of nutrients (proteins, carbs, other lipids like steroids) and other things that may not be good for your body. These other storage items including heavy metals, preservatives and flavorings and other chemicals from the foods you have eaten, environmental pollutants absorbed into the body, and other foreign items your body really has no idea how to use other than to store it (trans fats come to mind). It was recommended in the books I read that it is good to fast first and then go raw. In my case, I transitioned right into eating raw (at the time I was in school full time and didn't want to have to deal with a fast while trying to go to school). Now that I am free from school I can fast.

After I am finished my fast and clean I want to up my raw food game - all organic produce, 90% raw, monthly two day fasting, a blasted food dehydrator and juicer.

So here's my game plan:

A) 10 Day cycles of
- 3 Days of lemonade fasting
- Fruit and Veggies for one day

B) 20 Day Cycle of
- 3 Days blender/juice fasting
- 1 Day Fruit and Veggies

C) New and improved zest for my raw food diet

Wish me luck. I'll be back here with updates.

Ergah

Sooo on Afropunk someone posted a thread about donkey punching and asking about more info on it. They remarked that guys do it because it's a really good cum. So, I added that prostate massaging was a better cum for men then punching a girl in the back of the head; just it meant a woman would have to enter the rectum in order to massage the prostate, and that takes the willingness of both parties ( a guy willing to do something quasi homosexual, and a woman willing to stick her finger a a dude's bum). I even provided links on info and illustrations of said prostate massage. Well ... this one poster, Kifaru was his name, dude kind of missed the point of the thread and went off on a tangent on how basically evil prostate massaging is. Myself and another female poster defended it but, and he goes on to attacks us and claims he's only defending the unsuspecting bums of the innocent from people like us. I recounted but soon realize - 1) this guy is a jerk off asshole and 2) he has fears of homosexuality. Eventually he asked us whether we had stinky fingers from all the bum popping we do. Yea, it got really immature. At that point I left the convo and resisted the urge to reply back any more to this turd.

Anyhow, the Afropunk website changed and they got rid of the old board. New on is in place
. I'm checking on of the threads and what do I see - this turd has made a response, and not only that, he complains:

"Wait a minute. Do you mutha**** not understand that I'm a mutha******* legend! I didn't authorize this shit!!! I wanna know who was supposed to send out the memo about this little change. I want 'em in front of my desk and I want 'em to explain why they think they can make changes without talking to the legends first. I was just about to put that thang on Hell Cat and get her and Caramen Amazon to join AnalPopAnon when you flipped the script on me. They're probably out pirateing asses as we speak.
A legend recognize. The reason why the revolution won't be televised is because you'll be able to watch it on the net!"

Man, he's a real turd. And he gets my asshole of the month award for sticking to an argument like excrement to the bottom of a toilet seat - yea he makes me feel that gross. The fool is so closed minded and vindictive it just makes me ... feel like writing a blog post, and I did it, and now it's done, and this is probably not over but I'm not going to mess around with the turd anymore. In fact, I'm going to avoid him and his strange ways from now on.

Dooms Day 2012 Docu aka History Channel Fear Mongering

I saw that crazy 2012 Doomsday documentary. I'm surprised they didn't drag in Nostradamus. What I find is how ethnocentric these prophecy shows are. "Look, this prophecy foretold all these events in the White Western World!!" Meanwhile people in the rest of the world are scratching their head wondering what the hell is wrong with all these easily frightened white people. Sure the world's gonna end, according to said prophecies, but only in the West.

I suppose you can give this a deep analysis. To the rest of the world, the introduction of white people in the 1400's onwards signaled the apocalypse (before then I guess cats were cool, so some major shit must have happened to turn white folk into hordes or apocalyptic harbingers ... Christianity maybe). You ever read those histories of Africa and everyone is flourishing. You have wars and you have growth you have humans just being humans ... And then white people come and things go to shit, civilizations collapse. Flash forward a few centuries and the world as people in said area knew it has ended and the bones just pile up a mile high complete with abandoned villages, corpses and roving gangs of hardened post apocalyptic survivors. So now, the apocalypse hangs heavy on the shoulders of the Western world. Guilt anyone? Or maybe just Christianity's remnants? Come on, those Mayan prophecies signal an astrological event leading to an end of a cycle, not the end of the world as the West is interpreting. Chinese I Ching is for personal fortune telling, not made to be super-translated by a doom loving Westerner into "oh shit, it all goes down 2012".

Face it, the West love it's "Doom" and "Gloom" and "Kabooms" (since it rhymes) as long as it don't happen, like, fo' real.

Hey, party at the end of time anyone??? Light one up as those glaciers melt.

Spring

Things changed for her that year when Spring came late.

He had left on time, as usual and she had been alone to endure those two months of cold the best she could. It had snowed the day he left. The night before they had been arguing and the arrival of snow only added to her heat. She did not want to be alone and she had hoped this year would be different. He was a man of prudence though – he arrived on time and left on time, no matter if a snow storm shut down the roads. Her pleads fell on death ears and once in bed she gripped him tightly. The next morning her arms held nothing, he was gone. She had gotten up and searched the cottage in a dreary sad state, hoping, but all his things were missing – no clothing or shoes or any mundane small trinkets that were his. She had looked outside the windows and sadly lamented that there had not even been footsteps in the snow to mark his passage. He was gone and all that had remained was his lingering scent on her pillow and memories, plenty of memories. When she had fully realized he was gone, she stood in the open doorway of her home looking out towards the long lonely road leading away from her cabin. The wind had billowed up her white nightgown around her ankles and scattered her hair affray, making her look like a snow wraith – sad and mournful. She had stood there and let the cold crisp air chill her until she began to grow numb and could not bear it any longer.

In those months of loneliness she had packed her things and returned to the city. When the calendars marked that winter was over, regardless of the cold or snow on the ground, she would leave the cosiness of her cottage for the hard concrete world of the city where she would live in a small apartment until fall. Though she had liked the cottage, she could not endure the loneliness and the cold. His absence had made being there painful. She had hoped that the business of the city would take her mind off of that pit inside her heart and give her things to focus on until the wind brought warmth into the air and the trees gave birth to soft green buds and new life.

Sometime in May, when the first buds had begun to bloom into bright green leaves, he came. That was his ancient calling card because he had never paid attention to calendars. She had returned home from work to find him sitting on her couch staring at her with hungry eyes. In those two months away from the cottage and by herself, she had gotten used to her loneliness. She had let the city swallow up her interests, returned to work and began to live life as she had always lived it before they entered her life – aimless and alone. She had thought of him occasionally, but with the warmth in the wind increasing, her mind turned to other thoughts – warm and happy thoughts of a world thawed and renewed. She had thought about his replacement and how long he took to come. She almost thought that it was over, but on that warm day in May, his replacement sat there ready to fill her with new life.

He had been smiling so genuinely. His smile told her sweet kisses and soft whispers, laughter and joy. He was lounging on her couch, his bare feet propped on its pillows, his sandals on the floor. He had been so different from the one before, the one who left. This one, he was everything that embodied spring, right on down to his youthful form and youthful attention. He had hastily stood up when she came in, and hastily grabbed her in his arms, his hungry eyes dead on hers the whole time. He was like an infant too long in the womb and so his behaviour had been so eager and so rushed. She remembered how his excitement had saturated the atmosphere of her home and his energy had pulsed through it. Despite his allure, she rejected him, and continued to her room where upon she laid on her bed and cried, shedding no tears.

The next few weeks were tense. She would leave for work early and then would work until late to miss him. Despite hardly seeing him at all during those first few weeks, he had made sure to make his presence known to her every day. He would leave his magazines and clothes scattered throughout. She would come home and find a shoe here or there caked with mud and smelling of grass. Mornings he would leave a plate in the sink or would wake her up with the sound of his breakfast making. His energy had permeated into every surface. Once she had stumbled onto a pile of his workout clothes. In a fit triggered by loneliness and stubbornness she fell to her knees, grabbed his jersey and breathed in his smell. She stole it to her room and his only acknowledgement of its absence was a long intense grin in her direction that following evening. She knew that he wanted her, but upon being within his vibrant presence, the weight of her winter loneliness had come back and settled under her ribs, making her heart flutter. She acknowledged that her loneliness had made her bitter and the sting of that cold day when the other had left still numbed her limbs. She could not figure out why she could not move on and enjoy this new man.

On the first day of summer she had awoken to find him standing in the doorway of her room. He had looked so tired. In his hands were deep red roses. He entered her room and came to her bed, crouched down before her, and with a sigh had rested his head onto her lap. The roses he had placed by her side. She rested her hands under his chin and lifted his head up. His eyes were still hungry but his smile had grown into a depressed line. Tears stained his cheeks. She was tired of this game too. Winter had been long over and yet she had made sure to let it endure, ignoring the enticements of this new one, draining him. She had looked into his eyes and continued starring. The morning had been hot and she unbuttoned her blouse under his watchful gaze. His hands weakly reached up and started exploring. They were so hot on her skin. He was burning and gave her body what it yearned. She reached her hand out and wiped away his tears, brought her fingers to her mouth and languished over their salty taste. Their eyes remained locked, even as he began passionately kissing her, even as he lifted her onto her back and crushed her with his weight and eagerness, even as he removed her clothes and plunged into her body filling her with such radiating heat. Her eyes remained locked with his until that moment when she finally let go and descended into a bliss which she had refused to return to for so long. Summer had breathed life back into her.

Long hot summer days and humid nights had slowly changed into mild summer days and cool evenings. In the air there was a hint of fall and a rush of excitement in her bones. He had been a dutiful lover and gave in to her every whim, but in those early summer weeks she never let him taste of her flesh again. He did everything for her so that he could taste her love, win her love; but, she had wanted him to think it was a battle he could not win, although in her heart she knew he was winning. His joy had turned into hot passion with the heat of the summer.

She changed when he took her to a lake retreat. When they had arrived, he gave her a gift and told her to meet him at the edge of the lake in the evening. His gift was a dress, which she put on, and that evening met him at the lake. He had been sitting on a cloth, digging his toes into the grass. He gazed up at her, his eyes always hungry. He had reached out his hand to her and she grasped it only to be pushed down onto the grass. He had whispered into her ear, pleaded for her to open her heart to him again and enjoy each other again. For too long had he endured the teases and frustrating games that night on the first day of summer had unleashed. He was digging himself into her making her know just how much he enjoyed the sight of her in the new dress. So again, she relented. She put her hands on his chest and whispered sweetness to him. She pushed him onto his back and stroked his head, staring at him sadly.

Afterwards when he had lain quietly and trembling beside her, she got up and returned to their cabin. It had been getting dark, so she didn’t see him when he pushed her against the door and began kissing her neck and shoulders. The soft feel of his lips had made her shiver and she encouraged him to continue all through out the night. That next morning, while lying in his arms in her tousled bed, she pondered over the rest of the summer and the encroaching fall.

And then with coloured leaves, fall did come. He overstayed his welcome in his unwillingness to leave her, delaying the arrival of his replacement. She has been joyful at first but sadness seemed to be her companion for he quickly grew ill soon afterwards. With each day that passed he grew sicker and sicker. It was always like this for fall meant death. In those last few days he had stayed in bed, too weak to get up. She had been reluctant to care for him. It had hurt too much losing the one before and now it hurt to lose this one, the first one in so many years of this cycle who had ever wanted to stay with her. With each passing year it was something her heart had to tumultuously deal with. She had longed for the day when one of them would just stay and never leave her alone again, and when that day came she discovered that they could never stay, they always would die.

When he passed away her heart broke again and she understood the pain of the one who left her in winter, the pain of all those before. His last words had been as they always were, spoken with that very smile he had given her when he had first appeared to her in her apartment - that in a new life he’ll see her in the spring, and to carry his fire within. She moved the body to her cabin and had it buried in the green grass behind the cabin. She tried to forget.

One gusty day late in October she had been out cutting the rich red roses lining the front of her cabin. A gust of wind had blown off her hat and as she had stooped to grab it, she noticed something moving out of the corner of her eyes. Walking down her tree lined road a figure approached. The wind had swirled brown, yellow and red swarms of fallen leaves around the lane. They had danced around the slowly walking figure in a beautiful silent procession. She had stood there as she had done at the end of that past winter. Instead of looking off into a desolate distance, now she had been looking off into a potential future. The sadness had remained for that potential future was always the same. No matter how hard she had tried to fight it, she always fell in love again over and over. She was torn over these two men who would never stay with her, who changed with each passing year, but who always seemed to catch her heart in the same way with their quiet burning intensity and persistence. What was pleasurable in her younger years had now seemed a curse in these later years. All she had longed for was for one of them to stay with her forever and not to die when the seasons changed.

When he had reached her he grabbed her to him and rested his palms on her face. This year he had a beard and his eyes were light brown. His skin was dark and smooth and his touch soft. She had closed her eyes and he kissed them. He was more direct this year, but then he had always been very direct. She had opened her eyes and all that he was before merged and blurred together as tears clouded her eyes. She had wanted to say something, but his finger to her mouth silenced her. Together they had made their way inside, she leaving the roses that so symbolized the one who came in the spring behind on the ground. It was a cold winter that she spent in warmth and she loved all over again, another year, all over again, another year, all over again …