why is it so enjoyable to roll in your own filth for a few days at a time, to put off showering for no real reason until it tips the other side of the scale and becomes outright unreasonable? there's just a certain satisfaction in creating a layer of short term memories over your whole body. there's a certain animal craving for the dirt under the fingernails, the self-sustained perfume of sweat and grime, the bothersome locks pulled back in a tight braid, left plaited through sleepless nights and timeless days. and then, at the end, there's the shower. and it will be memorable. especially the moment when the water first hits your atmosphere and begins fervently burrowing through to the Clean hidden underneath, releasing your true and potent reek. and then when you get out and re-examine your very own body and remember oh! this is what is called sanitary, acceptable, beautiful, civilized! what a crock of shit! i miss the earth in my nails and my unique (even if off-putting) scent and no-maintenance hair!
fuck it, dude, lets go camping.
Some things about some stuff. More specifically: whatever I want to write and show the world on any given day.
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