Hunger

I’m not exactly on a hunger strike. I’m on a clear liquid diet for about 48 hours. It really makes me wonder how people who are on a hunger strike survive. Almost immediately I started feeling cold. Within a few hours I was weak and listless, unable to think clearly. I’m not hungry, so I get how strikers can deal with that, but how do you keep going? That’s why I . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “hunger.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

7 thoughts on “Hunger”

  1. I hate to say this and put a damper on anyone’s day but hunger immediately brings to mind horrible things. I’m a WWII era baby and clearly recall black and white photos that were smuggled out of Poland to my grandparents. Although my younger brother, cousin and I were told not to touch the mail on the dining room table – of course, first opportunity we had, we did. To our horror we saw photos of piles of emaciated dead bodies. Shocking, repulsive, horrible! We were stopped in our tracks and ran out of the room. I have a picture etched in my mind from news photos of POWs being freed by American soldiers. I still can cry thinking of how cruel people can be to sink to such depths – starving others. Today when I see what is going on in the Middle East or Africa – it’s always the shots of the children that do me in. Sometimes I have to take a break from watching the news or reading newspapers. It’s become so painful. It’s overwhelming. It’s incredible. This shouldn’t be happening.

  2. Hunger was probably the first hallucinogen known to man. At least, we can be safe to assume that it was. Considering that really didn’t know how to do a whole lot back then, nor did we know much about plants and their specific properties outside of “we can eat this, but not that”. Native Americans and other tribal communities often have a ritual, where one member will go out into the wilderness and take a “journey” in which fasting is a major part. Nothing but water. They would come back knowing what they couldn’t before. Like a near death experience, it brings a clarity and enlightenment of sorts. It is interesting to note that the closer we get to death, the more alive and more empowered we feel in our place in life…

  3. Hunger is my first pain in the morning and my last at night. When the thought touches my mind, I cringe and nearly cry. The gnawing at my backbone nearly does me in. The aches and pains are a constant devil. My mind slowly goes as does my flesh as I slowly fade and the life is sucked from my very bones until nothing’s left but a mere skeleton.

  4. Change is the only constant in life. You need to have a hunger and drive for the changes. Embrace and run with them as they come. Let them drive you to ever higher peaks and through the inevitable valleys. Fighting against change will cause stress, hungering for and embracing it will take you unknown peaks with glorious views.

  5. Work with others to change systems “that the hungers of the world might be fed.” A group of U.S. women religious take on this promise as part of their lives. Think. What are the hungers of the world?. Food, shelter, water, safety, education, respect, work, freedom from fear, health, ability to worship the God of our belief, beauty, harmony, unity – and these are just some. The question then becomes with whom can I work to feed the hungers? to change systems?

  6. Hunger is the name
    of the pot bellied boy
    who rolls down a worn tire
    by the stream every morning
    clad in tatters
    scratching his straw hair
    with grimy fingers

    Hunger is the name
    of the woman who has given birth
    to her umpteenth daughter
    whose breast milk has long
    dried up and where even hope
    has shriveled into an ugly
    howling fistful of life

    Hunger is the name
    of the old bunch of bones
    who squats, hunched at the
    entrance to rail station,
    leaning on a lathi
    for life-support, as the avalanche
    of humans at rush -hour
    sways her, to and fro
    like a reed in monsoon

  7. I’m hungry for your words, your attention, your love. Is this true? Sometimes this hunger seems to consume me. Arising subtly, like a fresh breeze, gaining momentum before sweeping me up into whirlwind fantasies of what ‘should’ be. And I fall into the bottomless pit of ‘if only’s’.

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