Going to the bathroom and other such menial life tasks...+ a bonus confession!

[DrGregoryHouse]

Is it normal for an INTP to be annoyed at being in the middle of something very engaging only to be interrupted by the call of mother nature?

As much as I don't want to, I will have to take a break from learning so much interesting/ thought provoking sheet on the interweb...to go take a potty break.

I've been putting it off for a couple of hours now. About to explode. Surely I'll be attempting yet again to shatter the world record in fastest bladder-emptying dash momentarily. Sos I can get back to this engaging sheet.

In the privacy of my own home I sometimes will use a jar or some other handy receptacle in which to deposit my urine so as to minimize such annoying disruptions. Definitely can't do that where I am right now for fear of the forces of law & order. One time I left a jar of urine on a shelf and forgot about it until weeks and weeks later. Any other weirdos out there like me?

Is this sort of behavior typical of an INTP?

 

[Brontosaurie]

i dunno

i was very upset for several years about the fact that humans shit yet somehow pretend they don't... they do things, and attach importance to those things as if life was a continuous ascent to greatness and not a series of disparate recon missions invariably disrupted by the excremental confession of dependency and contingency, the circadian re-set, the eradication of any progress made, the purge. the one thing to reveal all of our dreams and pursuits as mere by-products of the need for shit to thrive and all of our traditions and institutions as futile nostalgic chanting, traumatic aftermath, cultural scar tissue, a huge body of messy contradictory stuff that analytically deflects yet insistently demands acceptance. nothing substantial can be achieved because an achievement is never more than an excuse for being. purity of being is polluted evermore.

during this period other people seemed very dishonest - understandably - and the only way i could be honest was through isolation, hiding in the dirt, humbly and quietly serving some extraneous greater cause like the shameful necessity of a faeces transportation unit that i was. the service that i provided, then, was simply to let myself be ground by the system, to sacrifice my share of the irrational sense of subjectivity-and-thus-entitlement on the altar of disenchantment. i thought that obligingly assuming the duty of such a mechanical chewing gum or lubricant was being a good example, to the best of my abilities. i thought i was the only one doing the right thing for the right reason, the only one even remotely close to fueling any kind of cosmic momentum. the only one who really knew the meaning and importance of surrender. i considered my self-hatred as beyond the suicidal.

now i know this sounds silly (and i probably knew this back then as well) yet i still cannot fathom how any human would gain enough pride and self-confidence to seriously envision greatness for himself. it takes an immense amount of psychic energy to consistently deny the grave aesthetic crime one commits by existing as it's done today. does my sentiment amount to a vital protest or is it just a bit of whining about an inevitable stage in the development of civilization? conceivably, humanity could benefit from overcoming dignity.

i'm unable to express these thoughts clearly and i guess that's why i keep returning to them. it's like i apply the adaptive, selective reactions of disgust and contempt to the entirety of being. it's not very smart, but i can't help it as it feels like such an incredibly crucial possibility to attend to. someone must.

 

[DrGregoryHouse]

i dunno

i was very upset for several years about the fact that humans shit yet somehow pretend they don't... they do things and attach importance to those things, as if life was a continuous ascension to greatness and not a series of brief hectic recon sessions invariably disrupted by the excremental confession of dependency and contingency, the circadian re-set, the eradication of any progress made, the purge. the one thing to reveal all our dreams and pursuits as mere by-products of the need for shit to thrive.

everyone else seemed very dishonest and the only way i could be honest was to isolate myself, to hide, to humbly serve like the shameful faeces transportation unit i was. the service that i provided, then, was merely to let myself be grinded by the system, to sacrifice my share of the irrational sense of subjectivity-and-thus-entitlement. i thought that obligingly assuming the duty of such a mechanical chewing gum or lubricant was being a good example, to the best of my abilities. i thought i was the only one doing the right thing for the right reason, the only one even remotely close to fueling any kind of cosmic progress. the only one who really knew the meaning and importance of surrender. i considered my self-hatred as beyond the suicidal.

now i now this sounds silly (and i probably knew this back then as well) yet i still cannot fathom how any human would gain enough pride and self-confidence to seriously envision greatness for himself. it takes an immense amount of psychic energy to consistently deny the grave aesthetic crime one commits by existing.

i still can't express these thoughts clearly and i guess that's why i've spent so much time with them. it's like i apply the adaptive, selective reactions of disgust and contempt to the entirety of being. it's not very smart, but i can't help doing it as it feels so incredibly critical.

well said. well said.

therefore:
people < feces? (as opposed to "people equal shit" or people > feces?)

I shit therefore I am?

Methinks, however, that the premise of "methinks therefore I am" would redeem those people who think into being greater than their feces:

people whose thoughts are of value > feces

(which summarily relegates the extroverted sensory+feelings drunk masses to needing to be flushed)

 

[Brontosaurie]

well said. well said.

therefore:
people < feces? (as opposed to "people equal shit" or people > feces?)

I shit therefore I am?

Methinks, however, that the premise of "methinks therefore I am" would redeem those people who think into being greater than their feces:

people whose thoughts are of value > feces

(which summarily relegates the extroverted sensory+feelings drunk masses to needing to be flushed)

you bastard

you quoted before completion of my editing process

also we seem to be on different levels of seriousness... i don't think acceptance of cartesian dualism is a sign of intelligence, for that matter.

anyway those were my one million torn-apart dollar bills.

 

[NullPointer]

That's an unusual poo-centric philosophy, interesting to consider. Chemically, I suppose we are devices which turn food and water into faeces and urine. I don't know that placing such importance on just that aspect is right, however.

Consider, for example, a computer. Electricity goes in, and heat comes out. Does that make it merely a heater? It shares the same process, but judging the entire system from one property doesn't seem right to me.

(On a side note, which I just remembered, I think it would be great if servers were used as heaters. If every heater in every household was a server, imagine the computing power!)

 

[B.C.P.]

That's an unusual poo-centric philosophy, interesting to consider. Chemically, I suppose we are devices which turn food and water into faeces and urine. I don't know that placing such importance on just that aspect is right, however.

Consider, for example, a computer. Electricity goes in, and heat comes out. Does that make it merely a heater? It shares the same process, but judging the entire system from one property doesn't seem right to me.

(On a side note, which I just remembered, I think it would be great if servers were used as heaters. If every heater in every household was a server, imagine the computing power!)

Yes, food is a source of energy whose by-products achieve much greater purposes than indigestible fiber and nutrients (shit) that we must remove to make space for the next batch.

I have an INTJ brother (maybe INFJ, not sure) who has committed such heinous atrocities as having a full pee jar in his room for weeks at a time.

I will admit that it's hard to logically prove why keeping a jar full of pee around is wrong. The only reason why people don't do it is probably because of what others would think. In that case, please forgive me for calling it a heinous atrocity.

I will say that I admire the kind of passion that makes someone suppress the urge to pee or pee in a jar so to not have to pause in the midst of an engaging task.

Lastly, great side note. I love that idea.

 

[Brontosaurie]

That's an unusual poo-centric philosophy, interesting to consider. Chemically, I suppose we are devices which turn food and water into faeces and urine. I don't know that placing such importance on just that aspect is right, however.

Consider, for example, a computer. Electricity goes in, and heat comes out. Does that make it merely a heater? It shares the same process, but judging the entire system from one property doesn't seem right to me.

(On a side note, which I just remembered, I think it would be great if servers were used as heaters. If every heater in every household was a server, imagine the computing power!)

you are correct in that the waste is just one side of it.

but i think being up-front about our disgusting habit of shitting is an important factor in true enlightenment.

 

[Solitaire U.]

I used to pee into two liter soda bottles till they were full, then store them in a cabinet till I got around to throwing them away. Sometimes I would have four or five of them in there at a time. I pity the waste disposal workers who had to deal with the aftermath when those bottles full of rank, stale piss ruptured during the compaction process.

But that was when I lived in a trailer with a non-working bathroom at the back of a large scrap metal yard. The bathroom was a rather long and treacherous walk, you see. During the day, there was heavy machinery operated by methamphetamine addicts moving tons of steel from place to place, and sharp, jagged-edged debris scattered everywhere. At night, there were three large, mean guard dogs roaming the property, and I didn't care to risk having one of them mistake me for an intruder.

If I had to shit late at night, too bad. I held it until morning. One time, I got desperate and tried to shit into a plastic grocery bag. That did not turn out well, and I never attempted it again.

Due to the experience, I have great appreciation for ready access to elimination facilities designed for the purpose, and relish every opportunity my body avails me to use them.

 

[DrGregoryHouse]

I used to pee into two liter soda bottles till they were full, then store them in a cabinet till I got around to throwing them away. Sometimes I would have four or five of them in there at a time. I pity the waste disposal workers who had to deal with the aftermath when those bottles full of rank, stale piss ruptured during the compaction process.

But that was when I lived in a trailer with a non-working bathroom at the back of a large scrap metal yard. The bathroom was a rather long and treacherous walk, you see. During the day, there was heavy machinery operated by methamphetamine addicts moving tons of steel from place to place, and sharp, jagged-edged debris scattered everywhere. At night, there were three large, mean guard dogs roaming the property, and I didn't care to risk having one of them mistake me for an intruder.

If I had to shit late at night, too bad. I held it until morning. One time, I got desperate and tried to shit into a plastic grocery bag. That did not turn out well, and I never attempted it again.

Due to the experience, I have great appreciation for ready access to elimination facilities designed for the purpose, and relish every opportunity my body avails me to use them.

 

[Deleted member 1424]

Considering the above posts, it seem poignant to note that a typical human life both begins and ends with a great, dramatic shit.

We are born in our mother's shit and die in our own; a tragic, if hilarious, bookends.

 

[Puffy]

We are born in our mother's shit and die in our own; a tragic, if hilarious, bookends.

This is most definitely a signature in the making.