Showers seem to wash all of the thoughts in your head aloud for you to hear. You go in there expecting to purge your body of any impurities, but most of the time you end up performing a cleansing of the mind. I’m not sure what it is about showers that evoke the deepest of thoughts. Maybe it’s the sound of the water crashing against the tub floor, or perhaps it’s the warmth that causes you to be enveloped by a thin veil of steam. It’s not just the water, because baths aren’t as magical. Maybe water falling from a make-shift cold metal sky, that’s really a pipe, just does something to your mind.
Whether I shower for 10 minutes or half an hour, my time spent in there is like being alone in an abyss. I have nothing but my thoughts to keep me company while I’m in there. Without anything to really keep my attention, it’s only natural that my mind wanders. I wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow; if I should just go to sleep after I’m done; if school, or anything I’m doing, is really worth the effort; if I’ll be able to do what I need to do tomorrow; if I’ll be able to do what I want tomorrow; if I should write about life today; if life is even real. What if life isn’t even real? I mean, how shocking would it be to wake up one morning and realize that, your entire life, was all a dream?
Little ten year old Jonathan thought he was 60 years old and retired, but he only had a very lucid dream that seemed to last about five decades. Mister Jones could have sworn he was still a sophomore in college, but he woke up only to realize he’s forgotten everything about the past thirty years. How could someone handle that? Could the mind even withstand such a traumatizing event? How could anyone even deal with that? And that’s just assuming that this dream you’re living is exactly as the real world is. What if the real world was only the sound of time itself ticking and tocking onwards towards an end it will never reach? What if I’m the only one truly alive? Who’s to say that you all aren’t a part of my subconscious mind? Why can’t I see myself? Why is it that, in a world full of at least seven billion other individuals, I find myself being the only one who ever has, and will ever, see the world through my eyes and experience it as I do? Why is it that, in a world full of at least seven billion other social individuals, I find myself feeling more alone than ever before? Why am I still standing in the shower if I’m done washing myself? Why does anyone think in the shower?
I suppose, that’s just how showers work, and that’s what they can do to you. Showers wash your thoughts ashore, so I’d advise you be prepared to deal with them until high tide.