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I like take a look at a good volume of just about any material that comes out of my body. There's not much more simple and satisfying in this life than a good kleenexful or filled toilet or coated Q-tip or pus-splattered mirror.
I don't know what it is. Am I weird? I thought that was normal.
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Knowing that death is certain and that the time of death is uncertain, what's the most important thing?
—Bhikkhuni Pema Chödrön
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
—From "Burnt Norton," Four Quartets (1936), T. S. Eliot
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