Clean the attic
Where does the habit of starting the sentence with “As I…” come from? I backspaced into framing it in a different way, seeking another dimension. Shit starts to trickle down from the gaps in the wooden planks that make the floor. Some juicy chunks fall on the bald heads that are already riddled with the anxieties of neverland. What the fuck is this smelly substance doing on top of my head. Surat comes to mind. An image of a place called Surat. In our childhood, we had our own stereotypes. Surat was the smelly place. It was always a smelly place. Nothing more, nothing less. While shitting, I would often think of Surat and what a shitty place it was. I had attached shitty because it already had the reputation of being a smelly place, not because people liked to shit over there. Like shitting could ever be a hobby. You could never like shitting and not like eating as well. They go hand in hand or rather mouth to anus. The more you eat, the more you will shit. At least that’s what the ancients believed and their beliefs were usually true, supported by years of experience in power dynamics. Oh those ancients. They really liked spreading their shit.