Confessions of a Toilet

Author: woaizuonei
Word count: 50411
I woke up.
Waking from the long darkness, the never-ending journey, the boundless time, the distance between Genesis and Judgment, the meditation of lifeless statues.
Fortunately, contemplation means there is still life.
The violent jolt woke me up, the earth had not yet been destroyed, and there was pitch blackness in front of my eyes, like a deep tomb, closed by coffins in all directions, but I could feel myself alive—the noise outside the darkness, the temperature and humidity, the dry body, hoarse calling.
The twilight penetrated the thick cardboard, someone lifted me up, and I heard the collision of metal, and the panting of two men. Lift it up and move two steps, and quickly put it on the ground, when it heard a door close quickly, it sank suddenly.
go to heaven? go to hell? I was a little dizzy before I realized it was rising. Someone said that the 19th floor had arrived, and there was another metal door opening, and I was carried out.
This will be my new home.
Let your imagination run wild—spacious, bright, luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking half the city, enjoying a life of wealth and luxury.
Unfortunately, this is not my life.
My life is doomed to be dirty.
It seems to pass through the long and narrow corridor, and it seems to pass through the study, and finally it is the deepest part of the bedroom, the most private place. They put me down, opened the thick shackles that imprisoned me, removed the heavy armor that protected me, and stripped off every piece of underwear that covered my shame, until I was lying naked in front of two men with white and pink skin.
I saw this world.
However, my world is only as big as the bathroom. I saw a young guy in greasy overalls, with dusty hair on his messy hair, blinking at me and saying, so beautiful!
It really is the best, I really want to sit on it by myself, another middle-aged man said, he touched my smooth body, especially the part that opened.
The two men quickly took out the tools and lifted me to the prepared position, and everything was done in less than 20 minutes.
I squatted there cutely, like a group of silent lambs curled up, looking up at them helplessly.
Water, cold water, poured in from the water pipe, filled my firm and clean body, like the amniotic fluid surrounding a fetus.
They touched my face, and water poured out of my body, washing the exposed part like a waterfall, and then rushed to the sewer through the other side of my body.
The men looked at my performance with satisfaction, gave me a last nostalgic look, packed up their tools and left the bathroom, and closed the frosted glass door, leaving me humiliated and damaged, squatting alone in a dark corner.
Since then, I have been sentenced to life imprisonment and will be imprisoned in this air prison forever.
There is nothing to regret. My life was destined to be like this from the beginning. ． ． ． ． ．
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I am a toilet.
I am not a toilet hooped with wooden planks and iron bars invented by the Chinese, but a flush toilet.
I am not an ordinaryflush toilet.
I am a thinking flush toilet.
I am a toilet that can see, hear and feel the world.
What I draw out is not water, but loneliness.
I was born in China’s Guangdong Province, Dongguan City, which is said to have 10 million migrant workers—unfortunately, from the time I was born until I left my hometown, I was never lucky enough to see this city. The factory that produces me has only 300 workers, but the price of each toilet is 50,000 yuan.
Needless to say, only the rich and public servants can afford it.
The sign pasted on my head is a surname from Italy, an old family business that produces luxury toilets. This family has supplied the most luxurious and comfortable toilets to the Vatican since the 19th century. All the toilets of this brand are made of top-notch materials, French ceramics, German mechanical craftsmanship, and Italian shape design-it is said that no matter men or women, as long as they see my shape, they will have a strong desire. From the water tank to the toilet to all the ancillary equipment, they are all handmade, and the Italian origin can be sold for 10,000 euros. The least valuable thing in China is labor, so it can still be exported to Europe in a quantitative manner.
According to the idea of ​​our brand founder, any luxury toilet must be an aristocratic and classical flush toilet, and there is no need to add complicated electronic equipment. I also hate those fully automatic toilets that use electric washing. Humans need to clean their buttocks by themselves instead of relying on those complicated equipment-otherwise they will degenerate into crippled monkeys.
After coming off the manual assembly line, my body was fully formed, and suddenly I felt someone touching me—this discovery surprised me greatly. I never thought that there is still “I” in the world? “I” can still feel the world? Can “I” still be confused about whether the world feels me or I feel the world? Is it me first? Or is there a world first? Did humans create the toilet? Or did the toilet create humans?
The only thing that is clear is that I am a flush toilet, a flush toilet that can think.
Will other flush toilets think?
I’ve been thinking about this issue too, but I can’t express my thoughts to the outside world. Since I left the factory in Dongguan, I haven’t seen any other kind, let alone have the opportunity to communicate with my kind.
Maybe, I am a different kind in this world, or a different kind in the toilet world.
Perhaps, wrong—I am not an anomaly in the toilet world, because all toilets can think—the reason is simple, all modern toilets can pump water, human life comes from water, and only humans can think, so all toilets can also think.
Hey, when you are sitting on the toilet reading this novel, the toilet under you is also looking at you, and your toilet will see the novel in your hand at the same time, so that he (she) can know that he (she) is not the only thinking toilet in the world.
Finally, I was packed and put into a box—whoever blessed person bought me? The long turbulence erased time and space, and made me fall into a deep sleep. Dirty nightmares kept floating in my mind, imagining being sent to an unknown room, accepting human filth, and starting a dark toilet life.
at this moment,I come to my home.
This bathroom has fifteen square meters. I am in