I used to, not-too-long-ago. But somewhere down the line it stopped making sense to me that I stayed hungry from dawn to dusk without praying or changing my lifestyle in any major way. It made even little-er sense to me that I - as some worthy people do - dramatically alter their standards of living for this one blessed month only to return to their drinking, womanizing and other, err, non-halal activities with the tidings of Eid. The former is a personal deficiency perhaps, the latter is simply a desire not to be a hypocrite. But point not that, point is I choose not to fast. Someday, I hope, fasting will make sense to me again. When that happens, I shall gladly re-begin the practice. But right now, I don't fast. Because I choose not to. This choice is between me and my God, just like the desire to fast, pray and generally indulge in the activities of the faithful should be between you and your God. And I will be damned if I will apologize for not fasting to you, or any other proselytizing f0ol who thinks I should.
I don't fast.
And I detest the strange social standard that makes you think I should hide away in corners eating furtively looking around me like a thief to make sure none of the 'faithful' are watching and being tempted away from their steadfastness. I refuse to make excuses and look around shamefully while you look at me judgmentally as I drink my morning, afternoon, evening cups of coffee. I don't flaunt my food in front of you. How dare you turn around and flaunt your piety in my face? It occurs to me, that if your faith is weak enough to be swayed by the sight of someone eating a sandwich, perhaps you should reconsider your status as one of the faithful.
I don't fast.
And that, my love, is that.