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The way i shit mirrors the way i am living life, the way life is living through me, a combination of the two, or more. I realised this a while back on the only place i call a throne.

The pot.

Where the magic and the secrets are revealed to me. Some will now be shared with you.

Shallow shit. I had been shitting quickly the last few days. Go in. Shit quick. It’s out. Clean up. I’m out. Restless. Little or no patience. No letting shit happen. Wanting to get shit done. But the shitty feeling never left. Lots of gas. The feeling of shit lingering. Eating in a similar manner. Sleeping in a similar manner. Relating in a similar manner. Being that who wanted to tell the story, not let it happen. Just a little more. If only . .

Deep shit. I sat on the throne today as my innards disgorged themselves. Went in. Shat quick. It was out. Reached for faucet. Gdgdgdgdgd… Retracted hand. Waited. Shat some more. Reached for faucet. Retracted hand. Waited for shit to happen. Shit happened. Heard lots of grumbling by the digestive system. Breathed in deep, no smell yet. Waited for shit to happen some more. Focused on breathing. Wandered through the universe or did the universe wander through me? Shat some more. Realised that i was seeing different colour tones at different points of a heart beat, as blood pulsed through me. Oscillated between white and pale yellow as i stared at the door an arm’s length away. Stars? Felt lighter when it was done. Little forcing, much more shit just happening. Oh the fumes . . . Cleaned up. Left. More patient. Waiting for shit to happen even while wanting to get it done. Feeling little or not shitty. Less gas. No perceptible feeling of shit lingering. Eating in similar manner. Sleeping in a similar manner. Relating in a similar manner. Being that which waits for the story to happen even making it happen sometimes.

Something has shifted and not just shit. May be equilibrium with the universe?

Deep shit.

Have shits shifted your life’s axis too?


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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