shower

Earlier today, I decided to cook myself a dinner, complete with tea, cookies, fancy meat and fried lumpia. Somewhere in the process, I began to feel a deep melancholy. Packed up all the food stuff, put it in the fridge, and went to lie down in bed. I felt sick though, due to some kind of digestive pain. I tried to sleep, but couldn't, I was distracted by my own failure to be productive with the time. I decided to take a shower. Typically, the water doesn't take long to heat up, but I'll still sit on the toilet for a few minutes to scroll through reddit and be distracted. When I first got in, the water was way too hot, but it felt good anyways. After a cursory rinse, I sat down opposite the shower head, held my head on top of my knees and put my hands over my head. The water hit my left hand where I had burnt it earlier with some oil. It hurt like hell, but I kept my hands there. I could hear the water, but couldn't see it. Each drop that hit my shoulders could be heard, and I sat there, imagining each droplet to exploding into tiny fragments on impact. I sat there for what must have been ten minutes, my thoughts quieted by the sound of hundreds of tiny explosions. Still, I could feel an underlying dread of reality and an intense disgust at my own existence. I couldn't tell you why I felt such loathing, and couldn't understand the reasoning. It was still there though, barely detectable over the sound of the water slapping against my skin. The droplets were a high pitched whine, the sound of each impact being interrupted by another, never getting to end. At that final moment though, when the loathing subsides, I lean my head back. The droplets quiet down, and in an instant, my perspective opens up from from focusing on the space between my shoulders to the room I'm in. The droplets aren't that loud, and they're fairly pleasant, landing on my skin and warming it. Feeling the relatively cool air that exists outside of the shower's stream provides contrast, and I can appreciate the warmth rather than being stifled by it. I can breathe easily again, I take my burnt hands off my head, turn down the heat, and the relief is instantaneous. The burn tapers down to a slight sting, I take my soap, lather it up, and cover myself in it. It feels slick, until it's dissolved by the hot water, taking the dirt with it. Finally, cleanliness is achieved, and I can stop abusing California's water supply.