Ever wondered what it's like for a funnel which got it's end corked while more stuff are continouously being dumped into it? That's how I felt yesterday at the NUS bus stop. I wanted to shit, the last bus was coming in 15 minutes and the journey was an hour more to go.
Throughout the whole journey I sat on one thigh, crossed my legs and tried to prevent my shit from being sucked back in. I felt my fingers go cold and sweat formed across my forehead as I pretended to enjoy the traffic passing by. I saw bungalow windows, impossibly long stretches of walls, traffic lights, tree trunks, and more tree trunks.
When I got off the bus, my left butt was numb and I couldn't feel my toes. But I still had time to knock into an ACS boy who smiled back at me.
The walk from the bus stop to my house seemed impossibly long, fraught with pesky cockroaches, and quiet. Walking through the house door was a relief and seeing the toilet bowl was a joy.
The moment of release came not too soon and my body eased as I heard the rhythmic "plop"s into the water below. The funnel has been uncorked.
Anyone lost their breakfast yet? ;)
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