The Portal
The bathroom is our last refuge. No one can follow you into the shitter, nor will your sphincter allow you to escape. With nowhere to go and no one to bother it, the mind is forced into its natural inclination. Upon this lonely throne a space opens up, a cog is loosened, and out flows anarchism. But as quickly as it began, this bowel movement ends and we return to the world flushed, unable to fathom this freedom.
The Form
There are moments which can never be forgotten. A crack forms and out trickles something that does not make sense, but feels right. A pressure slowly builds up to take the world we inhabit and make it fit this sense. Reality bends to our beliefs until we look upon our own hands and are unable to figure out what they do. Anarchism envisioned today is surreality.