EarShatter

Hopefully this will be my first entry for the New Year and as I think about it, it’s only me who’s considering 2008 as a new year, except for the Chinese of course because like real mongoloids they know how to mind and make up their own goddamn business, no pun intended.

I’ve attempted to write seemingly interesting topics before, before they all went down the bin. I couldn’t think of anything to write and like what I replied to a friend –a real person, by the way, not existing in my head- following his logic that I should just write the emotions that I feel at that moment, maybe I am already numb inside and the only thing that’s left for me to do is to research on how to make a noose and start hanging myself for no apparent reason at all. Or drink KoolAid with poison ala Jonestown.

Right now I feel like shit on every level of its definition, and I thought maybe it’s a good start for me to keep on writing this bullcrap.

For the past three days, I’ve been shitting like crazy. It started Thursday afternoon when during a bout of fever and chills while being enslaved by Big Brother, I started developing spasms and had to go to the comfort room, and the funny thing’s coming up next.

When you are shitting in the public toilet, is it considered rude when your turd stinks? You don’t have any control over where your shitsmell wafts but should you feel guilty that when an officemate –like me- enters the room then smells what’s cooking, the level of denial and civility become so great that nobody even bothers to point out how foul smelling the whole room is? I mean, you’re the source of the stink bomb, so is it actually your responsibility to apologize or even warn every single person who enters the room right before the very second their sinuses will be clogged up? My point being is that people will be less disconcerted once they enter. By simply shouting “Pasensya na po, tumatae lang…medyo mabaho” will mean a lot to people and will find you thoughtful, right? Anyway…

I had to go to the little men’s CR to take a crap and good thing nobody’s in. I picked the farthest cubicle adjacent the wall, the one designed for handicapped people and started dumping down my business. It was effortless. I wish I had a phone camera to take a snapshot of my byproduct but thought that had I had a phone camera I would’ve done it a million times and will find it boring taking a snapshot of my own shit already. It was unstoppable, it was relentless. I didn’t eat anything lunchtime earlier that day and I thought the spasms I felt were due to not having eaten anything…apparently not. So there I was and my spinchter minding our own business (seriously, it’s like my spinchter has a mind of its own and wouldn’t listen to my command) when somebody entered the john and broke our peace.

I hate it when it happens, people entering the comfort room when you’re taking a dump. More so, I hated myself for being so ashamed of what I was doing which I thought is very normal for every human being to do. That’s why I blame it to the society that is so superficial to acknowledge that farting and all the “normal” sounds and smell that come along shitting, that one thinks he should constrict his spinchter when somebody enters the room. I am victim of the same society, and we all are. I’d like to say, I don’t give a shit or fart about them, but to further my point, I’d say the opposite.