There's something terribly therapeutic about scrubbing my entire bathroom clean and then showering in it right after. It's therapeutic in a humble sense, less self-serving or if at all indulgent. I come out of the shower feeling like it's cleaner than I am. (That might be a result of my own pride towards an excellence in scrubbing and bleaching it). A shower glimmering at me while I'm naked and glistening, it almost makes me self-conscious. Like it's met it's maker, when all along, the maker was under the water, scrubbing herself of the filth she absorbed from said shower. A swelling head my shower has. The taunting is stunting my shit at this very moment. I can't sit on the goddamn toilet without feeling guilty for what I'm dropping in it. The gall of this damn room.
Still I can't tell if I'd rather stride in here chin up, with the fresh smell of piss harassing my senses while prudently sitting on the toilet, hoping the film of scum won't volunteer me as a host for new bacteria. Or if I'd rather feel inferior to the cleanliness that is my shimmering bathroom.
PS. That bowel movement was spectacular despite the internal war I stewed in whilst duration.
