motiv

you stand in a nearly empty room, holding your dick in one hand, brushing your teeth with the other. the pouring sound from underneath tingles up from the oval chair, and as you are amazed by your effectivity doing these two routine manner things at the same time, you are equally awed by fascination as piss mixes with spit on the bottom of the toilet, making little lather galaxies in your urine. tiny bits of art work in your exrement. this is neither morbid, nor absurd; it's merely the reaching of an important insight - that everything is art. the sensation of being able to apprichiate you own piss in a deeper sence is not only arousing, but rather fucking marvelous, especially as you realize that this is just your inception of exploring the world. and suitably enough it all begins with yourself, sort of speak.