Baskadia

A while back I was at loggerheads with my editor concerning a draft I had pieced up about ‘MY TOILET’. He thought it was ridiculous publishing such a post for anyone to read. Well, what he didn’t get is that the whole time the article was meant to be a hyperbolic.

If you’ve been lucky to know me at a deeper level then you’d know that the toilet is my favourite room. Not because I like to pee or poop, who doesn’t anyways lol but because of the peace that comes from within.

When was the last time you stopped and listened to the flush of your toilet, like really listen? Think about it, when was the last time you stood and meditated on the gurgling sound a toilet makes as our waste is carried off into the great unknown? I thought so, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

What happens to our waste after we have finished our usual custom of relieving ourselves? When we flush the toilet we are actually in a sense of breaking a wine bottle on the helm of a maiden ship.

That handle that we press is our waste’s ticket to an exciting rollercoaster ride.
Now relate this toilet to those close friends you’ve got. Would you term them as loyal, would you positively compare them to your toilet.

That place you feel safe to let out your anger, your screams, your distress ideally I mean to say a place you let out all your shit without the fear that you’ll bump into the same shit elsewhere.
Do your friends give you that pure assurance that you can always run to them whenever you’re pressed and just need a shoulder to lean on?

Are they always there, and if they are, do you treat them right. I’m thinking, if I am able to keep my toilet in a good condition always for taking up all my shit then what would make it hard for me to do the same for my friends?

This is when you realise what a true friend is. Someone who would always love you - the imperfect you, the confused you, the wrong you because that is what a real friend is supposed to do.