I Love Public.

Everyone can most likely agree that public bathrooms are one of the most awkward concepts in society. Whoever thought the idea of creating a gathering area for people to do one of their most private acts in public had to have one sick sense of humor and they probably have never had a serious case of diarrhea either. I understand stuffing six stalls in one room saves money and space, but it is just wrong. I am pro having one toilet alloted to one room as a social/comfort code and feel that it needs to be put in writing and voted in the next legislative session, ASAP. No more potty orgies, just saying.

Also, I understand that sometimes we are away from our own personal porcelain thrones and need a rent-a-pot, which gives public restrooms a legit purpose, but isn't it the worst knowing that you not only have to go number 1 or even the dreaded 2 in public, but that you might actually make eye contact in a public bathroom with other people who are doing the exact same thing as you. AWKWARD!!! You would think this would put you on a equal playing field with your other potty goers, but no, for some reason everyone still tries to act innocent within those bathroom walls. YOU'RE NOT! Stop judging, ass.

Eye Contact, why are we all so scared of it? In almost all situations eye contact is so intimidating, for example: in relationships, work, school, parents and of course to prove my point, public bathrooms. It is almost like we believe that if someone looks into our eyes they can read our soul and we are exposed completely. Trust me, people don't care that much, stare at them, you're safe. Knowing that we will all still avoid eye contact out of habit, I will continue with my rant. 

Now, you might be able to relate to this scenario... you accidentally glance at someone leaving the stall you are heading for... ugh eye contact is made... you feel awkward knowing that you both just shared a bathroom moment with a complete stranger. Not a good moment, by any means, but an intimate and embarrassing moment none-the-less. All you can think is something along the lines of: are they thinking what I'm thinking? Do they know I pee & poop too? Are they judging?  So you both judge the other because of your own guilt and assumptions. These are just typical human coping strategies, but it doesn't change the fact that you both pee and poop. Darn it. 

 Then there is always the awkward hand wash with the overweight lady you heard struggling in the stall next to you, as you were balancing over the "can" making sure you don't touch anything that you didn't bring into the bathroom with you, in the meanwhile you are struggling to multitask and finish your routine bladder disposal. While washing your hands next to this monument of a woman, you might find yourself thinking to yourself, act like you didn't hear her or even notice her, don't make eye contact and God help her fight the urge for small talk!... You dry your hands quickly and bust through the door back into the hall, the comfortably safe hall. 

YEESSSSSSS!!!!!! You're safe! You've just made it through another awkward public bathroom experience. You continue down the hall, only to notice everyone is avoiding eye contact with you, it is so obvious that something is not right, something is very wrong with you. The hall is no longer comfortable, it is now a long stretch of social anxiety. You find yourself resorting to what people naturally do when they feel like an outcast or abnormal, you glance down to hide your eyes. Walking with no visual aid or direction, you notice the catalyst for your social doom... a tail of toilet paper dragging down the hall, mating with your shoe. FML.

Who's Turn?

Your turn-

You waited so long to speak-

you doubt, and so your voice sounds meek.

Should have listened and noticed its existence-

Now I'm baffled by its presence.

Withholding words cause of hesitation-

leaves me despising your lips indecison.

In turn-

My words seem to trip over my lip-

you seem uninterested in my tongues struggled slip.

I've become scared of my most loyal lover:

Attention.

While you hide in bed with yours:

Imagination. 

My turn-

I can only imagine in words-poetry-verbs. 

Knowing poetry isn't your preference-

only because it is too welcomed by what you have protected. 

I want to wake your imagination-

instead I'm left thinking you're far too complicated.

Now - - I want attention. 

For the Love of... Writing?

I have found myself living in a fantasy world this past week or so, which explains the glazed over look on my face that I have been walking around with only to make everyone around me uncomfortable. No, I don't need professional help or rehab my friends, it is just a form of depression not a drug addiction. I kid! I'm fine, but this state I am in is not any kind of fantasy world worth wasting your dreaming in, it's far too close to reality and emotional to be a dream, but for lack of a better word, a nightmare. 

Working two full-time jobs only leaves time for writing and day nighmaring I am afraid. I am at a point in my writing where I am actually living vicariously through my book because I am writing too in depth for comfort and pushing myself to create vivid imagery. It's draining. I've always been a believer in the power of words and language (see January blog "Words" for another one of my rants). I have read books that have left me feeling just about every emotion on the emotional spectrum. Whether it be happy, sad or even some form of depression, I feel these emotions for hours after reading. So with that said, writing a book only makes you feel the emotions you are trying to portray constantly, I am exhausted to say the least. 

Now, I ask myself this question every time I pop open my little white apple to write, and the questions is: Is it sane to purposely lose control of reality and live in a fantasy world, just so that you can make your reader feel alive, while you are left dying to create it? I know this sounds dramatic, it is, and don't forget pathetic. Thank goodness this is my place on the internet to whine and bitch, and I love it oh so much.

If you haven't come to the conclusion already, here it is. I have writer's block and emotional problems.