(You have never seen porcelain like I have...)

Waterfalls bowing at the edge of each sink, pouring like a herd of antelope down a steep hill. I don't need a vacation with natural waterfalls and fountains, I have my vacation here on the wet floor.

The walls are sky blue, the floor checkered black and white. There is about five inches of water in this small container, a bathroom of some sort. The bottom of the door has plastic duct taped to it. Obviously all three sinks have been clogged, water flowing freely from them. (You will drown like kittens tied in a bag. Thrown in the river because someone doesn't want you overpopulating).

My back hurts, sore like I have been doing a myriad of positions in bed. (Your back hurts from yourself trying to destroy yourself). My legs are weak, I can't get up. Usually by this point in time an average person would be frightened by this situation. I have no fear, so if I drown, I drown. (You're dead, no need to drown).

From where I am sitting I can see the fluorescent lights, their reflections in the three mirrors, and a blur in the water. I am leaning on the only toilet in the bathroom. I guess the people who built this place had a sense of humor, three sinks for one toilet. I'll remember this bathroom the next time I want to have a sink party. (No parties for you, a dead person cannot entertain).

The water is very cold and smells of everyone's piss. (Your piss). I wonder if the people with germ phobias feel great washing their hands with sewage water.

What would seem startling is a man banging on the door, but I know he is only selfish. He wants to take away my vacation. He knows that I didn't pay the extra two-hundred for the three waterfalls. He screams louder and louder into the door. My attention fails, the tunnel vision starts to kick in. The three sinks become two, become one. Now is the next vision. A vision of childhood.

It almost seems too perfect when I can just lay in the grass and watch the sky. Almost as if I were being punished by the nicest person in the world. I become those clouds above me, to rule the sky. The surrounding blue becomes jealous because it will never travel. It will only stay in the same place forever, just another catalyst in holding the clouds. The sky could rebel if it wanted to. Start to rip open or just fall onto the world. How beautiful that would be to see our sky fall. Like all the buildings in the world falling at once, but the sky would be more disastrous, less messy. Oh could it be? A small tear by the cloud shaped like a hammer? The sky is rebelling. Finally.

The shouting becomes clear again, the tunnel vision gone. A small chain of warmth is building inside me. I have the strength to stand now. The water tickles me below my knees. (It's only acid my dear, tickling your knees).

I hear the door crack, moan, and sigh. It is then pried open, the water taking two men with it. Many customers in lust of something to satisfy their hunger, in lust for something to make them fatter, are now seeing their feet above their heads. Screams are in a perfect syncopation. I try to see this chaos, but I am unstable with the rushing water. I slip. The toilet and I become friends again, but maybe the toilet is frustrated with me. It knocks me out cold.

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