It’s the lighting and some software effects that make this somewhat grubby tub look a lot dirtier than it really was. The shower has become my happy place, my safe place. Something is always watching over me. I’ve made video recordings of myself showering for a few years now. I don’t even know why except that it makes me feel a little safer. I remember a stage actor who commented that she felt safest on stage, where everyone could see for themselves that she was just fine, doing alright. It was a paying audience, which meant a lot to her. I don’t have a paying audience and do not especially want one. But if anyone wanted to spy on me I’d happily let them. I’ve known women who would be OK with something like this. I mean what’s not to be OK about, it’s voluntary and I gain nothing tangible from being watched. But it won’t happen. Instead I’ll process and save all these videos with a mythical goal of establishing it as a kind of forensic research collection for when showering habits become a focus of serious research. I’ve dabbled very little into the field of study but it seems most statistics are taken from interviews and questionnaires after the fact, not while the subjects are bathing. I actually wanted to do this for a film documentary someone once claimed they wanted to make about me. We did, in fact, film several shower scenes through artistically-chosen shower curtains that obscured my appearance. I sit on the floor in the shower so my big fat cock was not likely to threaten the intended introspective serenity of the scene as it might if I stood. I would shower as usual and talk about sad things, suicides, heroics, and deeply sarcastic complaints about the suffering I endure. I don’t know what ever happened to that documentary but I don’t think I had any reason to be in it, even if it was allegedly going to be all about me. I waste a lot of time with these things, trying to be nice to people and their projects. I once wasted a day posing like a fucking jackass for what was supposed to be a lengthy interview and article in the Readers Digest. No clue what ever happened to that piece but I did happen to find the photographer’s name and email addressa few years ago. I wrote to ask if he knew what ever happened to any of that work we did but he never responded. By the time I wrote to him it had been over ten years since we did the shoot, which was in the shadows of the Brooklyn Bridge.
