IN PRETTY RESTROOMS, I LEAVE UGLY THINGS

Invisible Illusions


Hurriedly I packed scattered belongings into my bag.
My laptop, my textbook, my sketch book, my pen and my phone.
In they went, not quite as fast as the speed of light,
though it was quick enough, like a thief in the night.
I scurried out of the school library like a mad man.

My loin held liquids that my being were ready to spew forth
and I was hoping that walking fast and occupying my mind with
random chatter will help me focus on holding in my pee.

Everybody saw me, for I wasn't stealthy at all,
walking-semi jogging-half running to the nearest restroom.
I felt their eyes boring into the back of my head,
searing and questioning,
I wanted to be invisible...
...
..
.


Unleashed,
There I was, a sigh of relief plainly visible on my face,
as I let acrid fluid gush forth from my insides.
Its almost as if releasing a prolonged held-in peeing sensation
was orgasmic in nature, though not quite sensual.
Just a different state of euphoria.

As I turn around, I saw my reflection on the mirror,
an image which has accompanied me all my life.
He is familiar with me as I am with him,
to each other we have been visible through out the walks of life.

I step up to the sink to wash my hands of the deeds done.
Everywhere was polished tile, sparkly aluminum,
new and sanitized.
Technology enhancing ways we rid ourselves
of our bodily excrement.
Even the faucets, urinals and hand dryers were high-tech.
Contained in each were blinking red lights, all in unison
Sensing if there was somebody who needed their assistance.

I notice all these expensive things surrounding me,
and I chuckle.
They probably spent more on this bathroom
than they did, say for their school newspaper budget .
I guess they needed to feel re-assured,
that in a place where filth comes to rest
the illusion of neatness must prevail.
I liked it, do not get me wrong.
But to me it was all the same, all an illusion.
At the end of the day, you can put lipstick on a pig,
but its still a pig.
All an illusion, for at the end of the day -
this place is still a shit hole - Literally.

As I was looking at my reflection,
waiting patiently for the faucet to recognize my hand,
right there waving in front of the red blinking light.
My hand seemed to be not working...
I waved it slowly at first, then faster,
and as the frustration set in,
My hand movements turned to an orchestrated chaos.
It probably took that faucet 5-6 seconds to work,
possibly longer.

This always happens to me
Motion sensors in restrooms,
they seem to just not work when I am the one at the pulpit.
Thoughts on how said technology always made my life harder.
Now that I think about it, upon closer observation,
the familiar sound of a toilet flushing seems to have
escaped my ears as well.
Just like the faucet, the toilet too had a motion detector.
Nothing was going right on this particular trip.

So as the faucet reluctantly washed off
the lathered soap from my hands
I now hesistantly turned to the automatic dryer for help.
I had no choice,
this particular restroom was depleted of paper towels
so again I put forth my hand right to the mouth of the dryer,
and just like the faucet as well as the toilet, no reaction.
Technology had turned a blind eye to me.

It was as if I was invisible,
my earlier thoughts of wanting to be not seen had come to life,
though at the moment,
only the algorithms contained in the motherboards
in these toilets seemed to just not see me.

Was I just an erroneous command that it had failed to recognize?
Was it my hands that were defective and in need of repair?
Or was I just so infinitesimal,
that it completely disregarded my existence?
It always seems to work for everybody,
...everybody but me.
I guess for the moment I am separate from this matrix
A matrix that everybody seems to be a part of.
For the moment I am invisible.



~ CHRISTIAN SAN JOSE