It was a small memory. Of a choice. A conscious one.

Even though I eat healthy and limit the garbage, I still become sluggish after. Eating makes me tired.

And then, I observed that sleep frequently resulted in a deep fog. Lost clarity. And it takes time to reclaim the focus and return to a flow state.

So, I just stopped. Eating. Which worked. Next I was sleeping... less.

Seven hours a night dropped to ninety minutes.

And I’m fine. And clear. At first.

What would you do with an extra five hours a day? Especially if it occurs when all of your girls are asleep.

A lot of writing. Some of it beautiful. And some planning. And money making. Maybe I can do more of the latter.

Until the book is finished, at least.

Yet, one realization came too late. After my body began striving for a correction.

It is better to be consumed by darkness... than by love.

The nights became so long, because I was longing for restored connections. Obsession started creeping in. And other sinister energies.

Offsetting the flow state.

Now I know, however. The experiment will continue, focusing on my tesão over infatuation. And focusing on drive over wishing.

And listening to my body. It knows everything I do not.

Right now, it requires balance. So, full nights of sleep have returned. And my appetite. Yet, when normalcy arrives... I’ll do it again.

Now that I know—that I’m aware I did it—I won’t have the urge to tell others, and raise their concerns (and stroke my ego and neediness).

I am excited for the next round. When I’m ready. It’s sooner than I think.