Behold! I have succumbed to peer pressure - once more, after an odd and idiopathic month of massive inactivity, am blogging.

Just wanted to say though: NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS PEOPLE.

My lovely readers (probably about say - 5 of you in total), I am more than well and fine, and it is perhaps this newfound general cheer that must be blamed for the quiet spell over this blog. Oh I have things to say, but for some reason I like keeping my blog at a detached and impersonal distance so it is indeed very unfortunate that the bulkload (in both quantity and significance) have been of that opposite nature.

Oh well, haha!

You know, public toilets are strange things. There's a level of absurdity in going and using one: receding into a tiny cubicle, where you're partitioned by somewhat flimsy walls for a sense of privacy and isolation. But the fact is, the person next door is still well, shitting and peeing like you - which if you think about it, are actually rather intimate activities, but are considered so undignified. The same person who may be okay with making out in public (or semi-public), might cringe at letting out a loud fart.

Why are we so shy about excretion, when ingestion itself is a process that if you look at it carefully, isn't that pretty either.

So what, it's just eating. But think about it: you're shoving foreign material into an orifice, and the chewing! Mashing it all together - plant fibre, meat protein into an unidentifiable mess. Your mouth is literally like a food blender! It seems natural since we're so used to it, but technically, it can be seen as just as unnatural as shoving batteries up your nose.

BUT THIS IS JUST A VERY LONG DIGRESSION. What I actually wanted to talk about was the strange experience while I was well, taking a shit in the library toilet. The toilets there are white, with narrow cubicles and due to some bad planning, very shadowy because the ceiling lights can't reach the inside of the cubicles. So when you're inside for a rather long spell, it feels strangely...amniotic. You are by youself, confined in small quarters by the white walls that melt into the shadows, and then you hear your neighbours next door making the same very embarrassing sounds that you are - and, it feels clinically intimate! Maybe because when you are stoning on the porcelain, you kinda let slip the consciousness of your self and your senses become so much more aware of everything.

You imagine the person next door being in the same socially compromising position as you, and the thin panels that seperate you and the other person seem ridiculous suddenly! So you can't see, but you can hear and well, smell - and the visceral absence makes it so much more surreal. Privacy! The partitions are an absurd irony that can't help but betray the actual, unintended intimacy shared between faceless strangers.

Then you step out of the cubicle and see your neighbour and all at once, cannot link the sounds you've heard with this complete stranger. Given a face now, you can imagine it and you blush, turning away.




See, complain so much about me not blogging - now you've read an entire long post about shitting and going to the toilet! I don't know how much you enjoyed reading that, but well, I really did want to talk about it. Be careful what you ask for haha