A couple plops into the water

I'm just going to submit a quickie blog today because I don't have a lot of free time and I want to get to writing. Here is an excerpt from yesterday's writing:

I walk to the bathroom. It’s a single toilet deal. I lock the door behind me. The fluorescent lighting is harsh so I flip it off. I sit on the toilet seat. It’s cool. With the light off I’m in near-darkness. Just a bit of light peeking under the door. I like it. I try not to think who else might have sat on the toilet seat. It’s cooler in the bathroom than in the rest of the place. The dimness is nice on my eyes. I lean my elbows against my bare thighs. Finally, I start to relax a little. For some reason, I think of the chipmunk scurrying through the sunny pile of pine needles. I roll my head around my shoulders a little. My stomach is still a little tight. This might take a while. I follow the chipmunk through the pine needles in my head. I imagine squatting and taking a shit on a pile of pine needles. Might develop an itch that way. Lourde pops back into my head. Her bulbous face. Her eyes popping out. Nasty yellow teeth as she yells. Quivering throat fat. I imagine gripping that throat, squeezing so her eyes pop even further. I imagine pinning her to the ground by the throat, right there, on the sunny spot of the sidewalk. I can feel the rough warm sidewalk against my knees as I press her down hard. Still gripping her throat, I squat over her face. Jeans around my knees. She’s gurgling. Ah, here it comes. A couple plops into the water.

I'm just posting this because I think it's funny. It was fun to write. It's fun to re-read right now. I think it gives an idea of the absurd humor I'm going for with this novel. I think it can in parts be really sensitive and poignant and in parts it can be about taking a shit, and about imagining a former teacher's face under your anus as you take a shit. I'm not restricted by any sense of the taboo. There's nothing I won't write. And I think that's a real strength when trying to portray a somewhat believeable teenage boy's consciousness (or anybody's consciousness.) We think about nasty, depraved shit all the time. Sometimes we think of nasty, depraved shit while we're taking a shit. This novel is going to be full of disturbing and hilarious sex and violence fantasies, and it's going to be all the more realistic for it.

Now to write.