text: This is a story that takes place between four walls. Walls that once used to be white but are now a light brown shit yellow, from all the cigarettes smoked during bowel movements, and other activities. Now, if that didnt give away the fact that i was talking about a bathroom, then im not completely confident that there is hope for you, and your advancement in this floating ball we call home. Anyway before i go off on a long tangent that has really nothing to do with the story, but yet again everything to do with the story. The bathroom, where daydreams can be relived, pressures can be relieved, tanks can be emptied, and where unborn children are given mandatory flying lessons. But im not here for any of those reasons. Im not resting on the cold pot, or washing my face in the dripping sink, or even trying to find the frustrating medium of cold and hot water to take a replenishing shower. Oh no, i am here for reasons much more dark, dark enough as to the sun couldnt even keep it lit. And the funny part is, this is no tunnel, theres no light at the end of this cave. As i climb the rocks in the cave, i sweat, i cry, i laugh, out of psychosis of course, but laughed nonetheless, and most of all i wanted to be out of there. I walk, i run, i jump, and i never rest, getting out of the cave is my only goal any more. I need to see who is waiting for me at the entrance, who missed me, who cared enough to wait because somewhere deep down they knew i would make it out. How long have they been waiting, but the more important question is, how much longer will they wait. Enough with the metaphorical speak. When i say climbing rocks and caves, i mean pressing my whole body weight against the bathroom wall in an attempt to make my self upright. Everything is heavy, standing is now a task that deems harder that solving a rubiks cube with one hand and color blindness. All i can see is the mirror, and what i saw, oh man what i saw, is what really makes this story take off. My eyes met my own, my stare shot right through me. this wasnt a mirror anymore, this was a theatre. A theatre with only one seat, way in the back. And there was only one occupant in that seat, and that occupant was me. Every memory i have ever had all at once, in a split second it all flashed. I knew every mistake i had made, every wrong i had done someone. I faced my wrongdoings and was apologetic, and ready to change. I tried to find an old memory that could arise a smile, but the muscles were to sore to muster one up. I want to be a better guy, i want to do it right. I want to apologize. Then a sharp, harsh realization, its too late, i think i finally see a light. Im back on the floor, my body just as heavy as ever, back in the throne room. Drip, Drip, Drip is all i can hear from the sink. how long was i out? Who Knows, who cares.