One of my earliest memories is of me squishing my own shit in my feet and hand. I squished it like Play-Doh between my toes.

But I can't remember what age I was. Was I old enough to know better but experimenting anyway? Was I really young but somehow retained an instant of memory of a traumatic happening?
I do equate the act with both wonderment and shame, like a straight guy getting caught with something in his butt while masturbating. Assuming my mom was either surprised or fearful, I bet I was very young and somehow remember it.

Can't imagine doing it again, though. How sick is that? Is that really how we all learned; that we just touched and licked and smelled everything we could? That has to be it, but that is really sick. At least, I think it is.

But we do the same things now, except now we commit disgusting acts that often elicit shame upon each other. Our thoughts betray our actions, and truthfully, we want to get caught. Because we want to learn. Go beyond what we are now.

There's a vibe out there; it's a vibe of uncertainty and frustration. It's a feeling that something isn't right and must be changed.

We don't know into what yet. But we will.