on how i am hungry

man. idealism is not pramatic for a reason. no one would do anything if they had any real idea of the implications. take fasting. in my 51st hour, i feel the need for reflection (surprise, surprise). now, i am not doing this because of the size of my thighs. i guess, it would be nice if it were that easy. and, if that were my primary motivation, i would've probably given up a few days ago. but, i am reading siddhartha, the perfect book for quelling illusions, hungers and cravings. so it's more than the girth of my thighs.

i always thought fasts, especially for religious reasons, were bullshit. but, i am empowered in my weak knees and shaky hands by the past. for 24 years, i have never said no to myself. ever. i am the queen of cravings, gluttony, the perfect bite and all that is chewable. i love food. last year, i gained 20 pounds while i had typhoid (a disease that typically includes extreme weight loss) because of my emotional eating. not only that, but i am a holder-onner. in the face of change, i would rather stay the caterpillar instead of the butterfly. it's just how i was built, for whatever reason. i neeed to clean this house out. there are too many things here, too much archaic emotion. this is timely. this is perfect. this must be done. the home i have built for myself in this place is almost no longer mine. the family i have created is moments away from disbanding. it's time.

the first day i could only think of food. yesterday, i must have hit some sort of store for emotions, and spent much of the evening wandering around my house, putting clothes away, watching grey's, crying all the while. this intense emotionality led to my main fears, change seemed constant and the scab of illusion covering the reality of truly being alone in the world was completely absent. today, i am not hungry, persay. i crave every food that's ever touched my lips. and i am exhausted. but, somehow, i haven't lost the drive of determination, proving that i can be stonger than my greatest weaknesses. like all hunger, then, fasting does not just induce only food cravings. somehow, it's every sort of hunger ever experienced. and, what i am hoping, is to find the bottom of the well, where there's nothing. but, first, it's going to get worse before there's any chance of a better.

this post is purely cathartic. i didn't mean to tell the world. but, it's lunchtime. i am dizzy with hunger and the samosas from tea waft into my nostrils, causing my mouth to water. i don't mean to make this a public event. but i am freaking out. and funnily, in the face of vulnerability and fear, rather than reeling in, i pan out. so. so...

galavanting garwalis, third edition

as we floated down the ganges in inflated truck tires, a british gent yelled to us, "how do you get to do that?" yes. that is the question of the hour. how do we get to live this life?

agent wolf tittie, code name v and myself (deathsquad) set out on the weekend mission on friday. we drove out of mussoorie in a torrent of rain... consequently, my first drive down the mountain. following a few fishtails, single-motorcycle debacles, and second degree calf burns, team holy water arrived in r-kesh. saturday morning, the day we planned to tube the river, i awoke like a kid at christmas. sleep was futile. we inflated our 350 rupee truck tires at the indian oil station, hung the intertubes on our arms like giant bangles, and drove (three on a bike) upstream. looking down at the rapids from a cliff, we were pretty sure serious bodily harm was imminent. our fears increased when none of the rafting companies had spare life jackets. when river rafting guides informed us that, "river is very technical. very risky, dangerous. you will sink. die." we wondered if we were going to become the next idiots trying to do something cool and instead, eating golden boy peanuts in the process.

swimming against the current, we entered the river. we formed a trifecta of tubes and approached the rapids. ethan, a.k.a. code name v, continually called out, "feet downsteam!" we bounced, swallowed holy water, rolled with the waves... and we were immediately hooked. a friendly rafting guide took us under his wing and shouted directions from upstream, "watch out for the rocks on the left," "approach on the right," you get the drift.

of course, our seeming expertise made us cocky. we went into the last rapid passively, assuming an uneventful end to a perfect afternoon on the water. then we saw the rock. consequently, which we were headed straight for. ethan, of course, began yelling about foot position. futilly, we struggled against the rapids. finally, i decided to let the river decide. at the last moment, we were swept back out to the middle.

man. it was great. another mission accomplished.

questions from those replacing us (spinning round and round on the merry go round)

"Court,I guess I only have one more question for you right now. Would you do it all over again knowing what you know now? Was the experience worth it professionally as well as personally?"

Absofuckinglutely.

i am my fucking khakis

in my classroom
with the music turned up high
on my one speaker that works
picking a zit on my face
sans mirror
the world is on pause.

browsing amazon.com
after a long day
the kind
that can only happen
in may
when it’s sunny
and there is less than a month
left of school.

after a day like this

[the kind that aren't worth

complaining

about because

for once people having

harder lives

is a sufficient excuse to

shut the hell up]

i am a consumer

the products recommended

to me by the genius consumer-specialists

at amazon.com
are accurate

i am my stuff.
oh, and my zit.
i am also my zit.

tickling itchy feet (subtitled: oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go)

lonelyplanet.com is like the online edition of the new testament. awe-inspiring to those who speak the vernacular. tantilizing. exciting. over the last 6 months, i have thought about my faith. a lot. and i have come to a single conclusion. my religion is travel. have i written about this before? my faith is movement, experiencing beauty and holding moments like shimmering rubies in my palms. my faith grows not in sitting, but moving. the unbelievable, surprising genosity of strangers. the caring nature of the woman i met in varkala who so perfectly spoke to my fears about twentysomething decisions. it's nothing short of miraculous, the human connection drawn between people in the world. and it gives me far more hope than any form of organized religion i have dabbled in. i guess i'm on the road to find out.

could i be any more of a contradiction, simultaneously working to grope at everything around me and planning gigantic changes? bouncing back and forth...

i wish i would have been a gymast as a kid. maybe that way, i would have been able to walk the balance beam with my eyes closed. balance, consistency, sustainabity befuddle me. how can passion fuel enough energy to delve into multiple pursuits simultaneously? how can i effectively live in the moment? and then, after bouncing like a ping pong ball between polar opposites, how can i find the balance, hovering over the net, stabilized somewhere in the middle? it's like roping a wild mustang to stand still. loving it all... holding it and letting it go... thennownext...

maybe it's in the acceptance of the movement. the motion. yeah. alright. glad i figured that out.

to summarize. plan: roadtrip.

destination: wherever.

possibly: bhutan, tibet, india, china, nepal, ghana, morocco, turkey, serbia, spain.

objective: walk on a balance beam with my eyes closed.