2. My Watery Grave – Toilet Letters

You can drink it. You can swim in it. You can walk on it. You can drown in it. You can fill a sink with it. Hell you could even fill a cup with enough of it.

You may be completely engaged with the prospect of what this wonderous substance may be. Some call it water, others call it water, yet others even go so far as to call it water. But I, along with the rest of the intelectually savvy world, know it more simply as water. And it is because of the vast array of valuable qualities that water possesses that I chose to be forced to write this love letter.

Dear water,

Humble water, oh so glorious water. You are the liquid rain of my soul, your wet kiss is the dream of every thirsty mouth in my shed. To me you are special, in fact to me you are more than water.

Sure you’ve got some rough edges when you’re frozen, but who doesn’t? In fact it is your rough edges that make you so unique. Some may choose to berate you for your constant need to expose yourself, in the form of flash floods. But I know that you have life’s best interest at heart.

The saying ‘Diamond in the rough’ (also known as vagazzling) holds true when it comes to you. For it is in your rough that diamonds may be found, just like vagazzling. Sure floods, tsunamis, water-boarding, and even foods can be rather disruptive and/or fatal to life. But hey, we all have our off days. Regular people’s off days dont typically wipe out millions of lives, but potato potahto, tomato tomahto, and in fact muchacho muchacho.

The constant fatalities could cause one to place a heavy smear of distrust over any interaction with you, but my withering trust stands strong. For your transparency allows no mistrust to be present. If i were to hold up a glass full of tepid water, would I see lies? Nay, i would see straight through to the face of the confused and thirsty child whose water i just took. This is the reason i hold jelly, glass, vodka, and soaked white t-shirts to such high regard, their unrelenting transparency.

After a hard day’s work, lying on the couch eating celery. I typically will wipe the sweat which has accumulated atop my monumentous brow. Water, I want to confess something to you since we’re alone. I shed a tear at the very thought of my body’s efficient discharge of excess water. If I could shapeshift into a water-tight tupperware container I would. A waste of water is a waste of water, and that is just a waste of water, and that is something that I cannot bear to withstand.

Therefore, water, you have nothing to fear. Life will continue to find a way to bask in your glorious mist. I myself, once I finish this child’s water, will continue to progress through the moist story that is my life. All in the endless pursuit of your watery heart.



PS. Stay wet
PPS. Stay moist
PPS. Absorbant material is the devil
PPPS. I’ve never met a towel I didn’t promptly burn


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