Forbidden Room Extract
There's an empty space where my arsehole used to be. It wasn't empty before, it was full even, but now it's empty. It doesn't belong to my body, it feels like it's floating 3 inches from my backside. A discombobulated arsehole, that I can regard at my pleasure. It's like studying your navel, but sweatier, smellier and warmer, though all the while detached from my body. My days are spent marking the passing of motion after motion, till I become queasy and stare at the wall to allow the travel sickness to ease. It wasn't always like this, once i filled my days with worthwhile action, that removed me from my arsehole. Day after day repeating the necessary movements to placate my mind and... arsehole. It was an interesting time for me, but a sad one for my arsehole, I showed it no care, paid it no attention and, indeed, it merely became the egress for the peristaltic musings of my colon. It had no purpose, no meaning, no validity in my life, it simply became an exit for waste. That was before. Now it is my best friend, I notice it's little ticks and habits, I can spend hours contemplating the philosophical meaning of my anus. Is it merely a faecal guillotine? or is it intrinsically linked with my very being, my reason for living? Defecation is a very efficient process, normally taking only 10 seconds. Presumably it has to be quick – animals (and primitive man) cannot run from a predator easily if they are in the middle of passing a stool. This is probably why it is even quicker when we are frightened. I'm always frightened and I shit a lot, more than is normal. Fight or flight, flight or fight, fight or flight.
