The Allegory of the Bathroom

I spend most of my mornings on the toilet, daydreaming. Today, light filtered in onto the tiles through the window and the way the blinds sat resembled prison bars, a dark array of shadows slicing through the light. 

All of the sudden, a butterfly from outside flew past, its shadow was all I could see fluttering through the light and shadow display on the tiles, and I felt as though I was in Plato's Allegory of the Cave, except in my bathroom. This also is the case because I spent the entirety of yesterday indoors, unbeknownst to all the beauty and mystique of nature that was lingering outside. I had missed out on an entire day of life, just sitting there, procrastinating, wasting away on my sturdy computer chair. 

It is a shame - or is it? I wonder about all the things I could be doing and then I think about my mild social anxiety and remember that I would not do any of those things. And that encourages my inhibitions. So I still sit in that cave, only seeing fragments of outside life through the shadows of the perspectives of the telling from everyone else, whether it be television shows or books or posts on social media sites. So much potential laying in its place, idle, watching only the potential of others and living off the perspective and observations of the outsider that visits the cave to tell the others of the wondrous things. 

Yet while I view this idleness as a negativity, it also plays a part in shaping my identity. For in excreting waste, I get the vicinity I require to think things over freely and without any interruption. In fact, most of my ideas are formed whilst I am on the toilet, or whilst I am in the shower, both very private sanctities. They provide me with headspace, and I come out of both situations not only feeling refreshed, but also feeling enlightened. In a way, I need these sanctities. I need procrastination. I need a cave, but I do not need the chains that it normally comes with.

I will continue to live on this way, presumably because I have showed no signs of difference as of yet. Perhaps my inhibitions will later in life disappear, and I will be able to accomplish more, but for the time being I remain a thinker, an observer, and a voluntary victim of the cave.