I woke up this morning like any other morning... well rested, slightly sore, and ready to shit.
I can't help but think my experience today is a metaphor.
I sat on the toilet and squeezed out a massive log. It was clean. Clean? Yes. The kind of shit that doesn't need a wipe. It was the kind of shit that knows it is a dirty piece of shit. It tried to resist by being an even bigger piece of shit than normal. Its effort was wasted. Its passing became a triumph for witnesses forced to smell its foul stench (the cats were in the bathroom with me).
I finished up and went downstairs. I fed the cats and got my morning fruit smoothie.
About 30 minutes after my initial dump, I felt another. Back to the toilet I went.
This shit wasn't as clean. It resisted. First, it let out a fart... a whimper of sorts... angry it was being shit out... grasping for relevance by being loud and obnoxious.
This pathetic shit wasn't quite as voluminous. It was all broken up. It lacked cohesion. It was a messier shit than its partner... requiring a slight bit of clean up afterwards.
As I emerged from the bathroom refreshed, I couldn't help but feel contented at the thought that both those pieces of shit are where they belong... fermenting in the sewer. Dealing with pieces of shit is a daily struggle, unfortunately. There are always going to be little dingleberries. They wash away. If you find yourself worrying about every little piece of shit in the world, you're going to be unhappy.
It's best to just flush those fuckers and move on.
I can't help but think my experience today is a metaphor.
I sat on the toilet and squeezed out a massive log. It was clean. Clean? Yes. The kind of shit that doesn't need a wipe. It was the kind of shit that knows it is a dirty piece of shit. It tried to resist by being an even bigger piece of shit than normal. Its effort was wasted. Its passing became a triumph for witnesses forced to smell its foul stench (the cats were in the bathroom with me).
I finished up and went downstairs. I fed the cats and got my morning fruit smoothie.
About 30 minutes after my initial dump, I felt another. Back to the toilet I went.
This shit wasn't as clean. It resisted. First, it let out a fart... a whimper of sorts... angry it was being shit out... grasping for relevance by being loud and obnoxious.
This pathetic shit wasn't quite as voluminous. It was all broken up. It lacked cohesion. It was a messier shit than its partner... requiring a slight bit of clean up afterwards.
As I emerged from the bathroom refreshed, I couldn't help but feel contented at the thought that both those pieces of shit are where they belong... fermenting in the sewer. Dealing with pieces of shit is a daily struggle, unfortunately. There are always going to be little dingleberries. They wash away. If you find yourself worrying about every little piece of shit in the world, you're going to be unhappy.
It's best to just flush those fuckers and move on.
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