The Shit-Self

An extremely interesting shit this morning. While performing, it came to me that I had not shit for 2 days. This explained the unusual volume of the load, and also its mealy texture and solid constitution. As it slid out of me, I worried that the residuals might be troublesome to clean up, but there were none! A most curious shit it certainly was. I’ve not had one like this for years perhaps, and what struck me was the possibility that somebody else, maybe even Chris, might take a shit like that nearly every day. It is certain that the exact composition and nature of my shit is as manifold as my personality or the presentation of myself, but it is also certain that my shit cannot exist reflexively. So, I wonder, could it be that my shit is a record of me that is completely unaffected? I think to become more involved in my shit might be equivalent to becoming more involved with my disarticulated self.