You might have noticed a shift in tone in yesterday's post. Admittedly, it was something the nightshift churned out. Typically, I am a morning writer. See, the morning looks toward the future and generally it is an optimistic take; we tend to think our flipping my classic sci-fi toggles and rolling my black and white dials will be changes for the better.

As the evening shades overtake us in a nightly metaphor of our own existence, I am far more retro-introspective. Perhaps that is why I once made a habit out of going to bed at 7:30 PM to wake again at 2:30 AM...though the night has always been my favorite. Is there anything better than an autumn night with gusts of wind? Nostalgia...

You can have your springs and summers. Give me fall. And while December remains my favorite month, Death roams the streets of winter nights.

No, I choose brighter tomorrows. There are future friends of cherished camaraderie. I want to be part of something driving toward an objective as iron sharpens iron.

A consistent component of this is something I have missed in these Expeditions 1-38. Not that it is required for weightloss, but would I have the points of failure when I snapped 100s of days long streaks?

Who do you need?
Who do you love
When you come undone?

Duran Duran, Come Undone (1993)

Last night, I pulled down off the shelf a box of that grey-reducing beard shampoo. As I worked it in, I thought to myself, "What am I doing? I don't want to be 31-32 again. I just want to be me."

I like being 45. It's nothing I thought it was. I'm less Michael Scott in Fun Run, Dinner Party, and Goodbye, Toby with Steve Carrell at that age. Perhaps I lean more toward Matt Damon's character in Jason Bourne (2016): chiseled by age and apprehensive of the far-reaching tentacles of technology.

I snatched up the entirety of my clearanced-out beard dyes and released them into the trash.

I don't know why I put on pretenses. Long has faded the social groups that once meant something. Maybe that sort of context would add validity. Then again, I have always understood the value in Blessid Union of Souls' Hey Leonardo.

I guess my hope around New Year's Eve was that in 2024, I would be a part of something. In my pre-dawn cardio, my thoughts played: "This will be the year! There will be friends, deep conversations, coffees, real connections—just like what I once had at the Ugly Mug!"

Who are we kidding?

Let's be real: these days, I just send unanswered 5-word texts. That world is dead. Or, I'll toss another Message in a Bottle email. It makes me draw inward.

I just want something real.

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory?
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad, and it's sweet, and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes"

-Billy Joel

Lately, I've had not just one song, but an ENTIRE earworm playlist in my head:

1. Level 42 - Something About You
2. Viva La Dirt League / The Wanted - Chasing the Swarm / Chasing the Sun
3. Dan Hartman - I Can Dream About You (just the verses)

It's not really so bad—it's not like I've got My Bologna jammed up in there.

I have now passed 200 days on my second stint of a High-fat Carnivore diet. I believe I have figured out and simplified my approach:

• 1 Meal: ~10 oz. of meat
• Fat Focus (No Protein): 2 days per week
• Butter: 2 sticks
• Coffee: 4 cups

Beating HFC #1 is only 38 days away! And as far as breaking my regular carnivore streak, *ahem*, it's just 438 days away. And then to surpass my daily dieting streak of my life, ehhhh...we can celebrate that in November '25.

Of course, all of these scores are listed on Daily Streak High Scores

It is a minor thing. It has been years since that 86-day streak mattered, the product of Expedtions 1-3.

Then again, I consider how I really ought to do away with tracking it for I am not on a conventional diet. You know the kind: cut back on calories, have super resolve, and then in a moment of emotional weakness, shatter the whole thing to only maybe pick up the heavy backpack the next day—IF you are lucky. My early streaks were just that.

Who wants to do that? But that's what they tell us, don't they?

In contrast, what I am doing now is what I will be still doing after I hit goal weight / achieve homeostasis. Anybody can drop weight, but what ya do afterward is key. I must ask:

"Why do it afterward?"

Take it to the lab and tinker around to see what works TODAY. Break things and fail forward. Create something that has long-term capability. Believe me: a 12-week 70-lb drop is a one-way ride to Taco Town.

Live today. Be ALIVE.

I'm better
So much better now
I use my micro and macro
Together now

-Viva La Dirt League, Chasing the Swarm