THE TOILET or as whites call it “THE LOO”

The toilet or the Lavatory as the British say it has been one special place for thought and release. I’ll be honest and say the loo is one place were I view most whatsapp statuses, yeah I said it. The statuses make the tension in my bum a little loose.

Laugh and release. #joke

Now in high school I use to notice something rather odd. A whole lot of writing inside the loo. I can tell you that things written there were not for the young. Profanity, sexual content, confessions, cell phone numbers; the list goes on.

I will admit that I had an urge to do it to, but never did, I suffered from the goodie too shoes syndrome, it’s a rare disorder but it drowns you if not grounds you.

My theory which you can oppose is that these writings are a continuation of the loo’s job, offering release, relief from the things that “hold you down”

So you write them on the walls for the whole world to see. I remember in South Africa there was a social app called “The Toilet” it was famous for one particular thing. YOU getting FLUSHED

Getting flushed here meant all your secrets would be aired out for the world to read, awe and laugh at. Writing this post is making me think of how genius the name for the app was “The Toilet” essentially the toilet offers that one important thing, release of dirty things that hold you.

I mean besides after SEX, I genuinely think or would like to believe decisions to either choose peace and war would have been thought clearer if whoever was deciding war or no war went to the loo first.

Of course the results would depend, because if I am there trying to release and thinking about how you pissed me off and the more I think about it, the more time it takes for me to actually release, my anger would build.

“Yazi u-Hilter uyangijwayela… who does he think he is…”

Am I right or am I right? The loo is therapy, a friend you can talk to for hours on end without feeling like they are not listening or just steadily waiting to make a response, and it won’t charge you a single dime. All the toilet wants is for you to god damn flush afterwards; flush all your anger, your misery, pain and nonsense. Let it all go and mix with other nonsense of the world

So the question is: what goes on in your head when you’re sitting hours on end in Dexter’s LAVATORY? The quietest place you’ll be in.

Comment? Say something, have your release

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