"Breatharian" Couple Says They Survive On "The Universe's Energy" Instead Of Food

NY Post- Husband and wife Akahi Ricardo and Camila Castello believe that food and water aren’t necessary and humans can be sustained solely by the energy of the universe.

Castello and Ricardo — who have a 5-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter together — have survived on little else besides a piece of fruit or vegetable broth just three times per week since 2008.

And Castello even practiced a Breatharian pregnancy — not eating anything during the entire nine months that she carried her first child.

The married couple of nine years claim that their “food-free lifestyle” has improved their health and emotional well-being as well as letting them spend money on traveling rather than the weekly groceries.

“For three years, Akahi and I didn’t eat anything at all and now we only eat occasionally like if we’re in a social situation or if I simply want to taste a fruit.”

“With my first child, I practiced a Breatharian pregnancy. Hunger was a foreign sensation to me, so I fully lived on light and ate nothing.”

“I didn’t feel the need or desire to eat solid food during the entire nine months and so I only ate five times, all of which were in social situations.”

“And I knew my son would be nourished enough by my love and this would allow him to grow healthily in my womb. I went for regular pregnancy checkups and my doctor confirmed the above-average growth of a very healthy baby boy.”

We’re back with another contender for most insufferable people on earth. If you missed the fat camp for skinny people, here’s another contender. 

I’m sure these kids don’t have any friends but can you imagine going over to their house after school for a playdate and wanting a snack? Opening that pantry door to find jars full of air aka breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I say we send this family to China, see if they stick to that air diet while they choke down the sewage fumes of Beijing. Either way, I can’t stand this family and this story infuriated me.

So it’s time for another round of my favorite game: here’s how they die!

Akahi, Camila, and their two children–Quest and Arrow–have been living in the woods beside the highway for 10 years. Their hut is a crude hut, cobbled together with bits of twig, bark, and the bones of lost hikers, sealed with a paste made from mud and menstrual blood. Castello admits that it’s been over a decade since her last period. “I never suffer from PMS symptoms anymore and I feel more emotionally stable,” she brags. Their hut was glued together with the runoff from one of her final menstrual cycles, and the family takes comfort in knowing their mother’s blood holds the home together.

The Ricardos enjoy a pleasant, simple life. The children spend their days gathering acorns and speaking to the trees while mom and dad make love with their clothes on. During the parents’ 9-hour daily tantric sessions, the kids are strictly forbidden from entering the house. At 4PM, dinner is served: jars of oxygen seasoned with sunlight and dust. After the meal, bellies full, the family gathers around and braids Camila’s armpit hair which, by now, cascades to her knees. “What a day!” they sigh in unison, exhausted, satisfied, content. As little Q & A retire to their corners, curling up on the hard mud floor with no pillows or sheets because those luxuries corrupt the spirit, the parents smile lovingly at each other.

“Look what we made,” they whisper.

“Shall we have a nightcap?” Akahi asks his wife, a naughty look in his eye.

“You bad boy!” she says, laughing quietly so as not to wake the monsters. They call their children monsters, but not to their faces. The children might actually be monsters. They’re so covered in lice that the local public school expelled them as a health precaution.

Akahi walks to the liquor cabinet and pulls out a small jar of air captured on their honeymoon in Bordeaux. “Let’s try the ’88 tonight,” he says.

“We’ve been saving that for a special occasion!” Camila whimpers.

“Every night is a special occasion with you,” Akahi says, slightly drunk with anticipation. He unscrews the lid, sniffs it, swirls the jar. “Let’s give it a second to breathe. It’s been in there a while.”

They spend the rest of the night staring into each other’s eyes from a distance of a 4 inches, inhaling each other’s carbon dioxide. They can’t sleep, nor have they since they met. Nor do they blink. They just stare at each other’s eyeballs until the sun begins to leak through the nooks and crannies of their shitty piece of shit house, announcing the new day.

What they don’t know, however, is that they are all slowly dying. Asbestos has seeped into the walls. Every night, the Breatharian diet which has sustained them for so long, which has saved them so much money on groceries and human interaction, is killing them as they inhale the asbestos fibers that float unnoticed through their food source. It has taken years, but the entire family is riddled with Mesothelioma–a cancer that affects the lining of the lungs. The disease is always fatal. Quest and Arrow will die first as their parents watch, wondering what they did wrong but refusing to bring the children to a doctor even as their lungs fill with blood. The Ricardos swore off modern medicine, hospitals, and doctors many years ago. These institutions are notoriously corrupt, influenced by the greed of insurance and pharmaceutical companies. Still, it takes a particular level of stubbornness to allow your children to die in front of you before taking them for a checkup with a licensed medical practitioner. But that’s the breatharian way.

Camila and Akahi die shortly thereafter. Nobody ever finds them because they severed all ties with friends once they gave up food. They decompose over the years, content in the knowledge that the atoms of their human forms will circulate through the lungs of breatharians for years to come.

That’s how I picture it, at least.