Monday, August 31, 2009

For Rohan (maybe)

Today i had great plans of progress and production that were foiled again. This time though, they were halted in order to stop at thrift stores for fishbowls and buy a copy of Predator at WalMart for 5 bucks, a preemptive strike at tonight's what-to-do question. After getting home, i started a bath, my first bath in a long time, in order to gain quality alone time with books, cigarettes and a warmth that seems to have prematurely left the weather spectrum lately. It was a little hot at first, but all good baths are, and after settling in, I felt quite alright. I read a couple chapters of a book and decided to close my eyes for a minute, quickly falling asleep. Half sleep in a bath is a funny thing, your head resting on unforgiving porcelain, body sliding deeper into the water, every minute movement echoed audibly in splashes. Whatever though, it was nice to nap in the water. And when i finally fully woke up (after a couple false starts) I still laid and laid still for a few more minutes watching my morning (or maybe evening?) wood bounce to the beat of my pulse. Bodies are weird things aren't they? It felt like a fitting end to one's leisure time in the bathroom, but as I got up, I realized I had forgotten to actually clean myself, so a shower was necessary. I pulled the plug and turned on the shower head at the same time, and the flow raced against the drain during the entire length of the shower, finally catching up and draining the bathwater when I finished my shower. That's when I realized I didn't have a boner anymore and it felt like things were done in the bathroom for the time being.

The whole process started a little more than two hours ago, and ended five minutes ago. Stay tuned.


  1. Hey! My name on the internet! You wrote it from your head.

    I love the bathtub. It's empty of everything except you. It's an illusion, of course, but whatever. It gives me time to reconcile with the void that is everyday life. In there, nothing really matters, and then you realize that nothing outside of it matters. Nothingness doesn't destabilize you any longer. It strengthens you. All consequences are bearable. You don't need demonstrations or histrionics lamenting the death of the illusion of meaning, and you don't need to act like you really care that life feels nice and is false. Showers are a silly drug. I sometimes scare myself and pretend that I'm addicted to the womb, but really I'm just addicted to the sensory privacy. I could do the same with a lonely summer walk, as long as I'm not threatened by cops.

    My goal is to feel this way always, that is, present, empty, aware and enjoying. Reality can be fun, and is temporary, much like a bath. Once it's over, you wash everything down the drain. If they're that close, why can't I feel the same way in both situations?

    The only thing that freaks me out about the bathtub experience is the womb thing, because while ignorance might be blissful, it is metaphorically steeped on a cliff, and the slightest tumble will put it into horror. Depression is an accurate word.