On the outside, I seem like a clean-cut, normal guy. My friends and neighbors no doubt think of me as a healthy, productive member of my community. But I’m tired of living my double life. I’m going to make a confession that may surprise you.

I have a private, windowless room in my house. I’ve had the floor and parts of the walls covered in plain white tile, which gives it a certain antiseptic appearance.

But that appearance is almost hideously deceiving. With appalling frequency, I enter this room alone and use it to deposit the foulest-smelling ejecta possible from my body cavity right out into the open, befouling a small pool of clear, clean water. You wouldn’t believe the sounds and facial expressions I can make in the process. At times, they’re almost akin to those associated with great physical pleasure or exquisite pain.

The worst part is that I have to do this. It’s like a physical need. If I haven’t seated myself in my private little room in a while, I can feel the urge within me build and finally I just have to give in and do the filthy, nauseating deed. Afterwards, once the repulsive ordure has been produced, the compulsion is gone. I can meticulously take care of any residue and pretend that I am once again clean. But the need always comes back. Sometimes I feel compelled to return to my private room more than once a day.



There’s nothing pleasant about this confession, believe me. I’m as disgusted as you or anyone else would be, when I catch a glimpse of the feculent results of my secret little practice. But I’m tired of the lies. I’m tired of the years of pretending to everyone that I meet that I don’t have to do this. But I do. Oh, how I do. Oh, the shame of it.

Even in making this confession, I know that it will change nothing about my perverse, loathsome condition. Soon I will return to my little room and, once the deed is done, I’ll send the abhorrent evidence away as soon as possible, through a cunningly devised series of underground pipes. (How complete, how complicated my design! How monumental my deception!) I’m afraid I feel the need building even now. Even now.

I am so sorry.