Freaky Clean Up-er!

 I can’t begin to express how the process of cleaning up makes me feel, it’s probably one of those OCD by-products only...pleasurable. Some people itch uncontrollably...and I, clean to relieve myself, not in a using the bathroom kind of way BUT in a relaxing expression of emotion! Some people get therapeutic massages, listen to classical music or even take walks to release their frustrations, emotions; all in sundry BUT I blare the loudest music and rage war on the bathroom kitchen or closet instead.

 Its warfare! I literally scrub anything beige to white. To be safe me and Maneta should be kept away from the bleach I tend to erm ...over indulge; I don’t drink it, pour it onto people, use it on myself or anything like that though, so you can relax!

But truth be told we’d all be cleaner if we bleached ourselves every now and then, Carrot lite will do fine. (hahaha did you get that one?)

When I’m upset I do many things but most of the time its tie between cleaning up and writing, when I’m happy I clean, when I’m angry I’ll do my laundry so damn well.

It’s pretty creepy when really think about it now. Hell I’ll bet if I were a serial killer I’d be one of those that’d sweep the ‘scene of the crime’so damn well and people wouldn’t know it EVER happened! (MIHAHA!) I probably shouldn’t have put that in writing...now you’ll always wonder...is she? Isn’t she? Would she? Okay, okay I digress.

It feels like I’m scouring away my sorrows my problems, almost as though if I scrub hard enough all the bad things that have happened can be reversed and turned non-existent.

Cleaning when I’m angry is like throttling the person who pissed me off, only I’ve got the broom handle in full grip instead.

As the music blares from my speakers I’m having a good shout and moan about everything fucked up at the moment but only the bathroom walls get to hear me. Get to hear the truth, how I really feel...about stuff! 

It’s as though every stain removed is a problem solved. Funny thing is, it’s a stain I’ve probably seen all week, a mess that’s been nagging at my sub conscience saying “watcha watcha gonna do about it?” Then something happens and I SNAP! My cleaning artillery on hand I scrub that smug mess of the face of...of the ceramic tiles.

And then there’s the satisfaction of the glimmer, shine, sweet smell of bleach in the air. That is when I know ...I’ve WON.

I’ve conquered whatever was bothering me; the pleasure is so sweet very sweet almost as good as...! Don’t give my text that look! I know it’s twisted but I’ll bet somebody somewhere reading THIS right NOW has a freaky/ freakier way of dealing with stuff SO! Feel free to drop it the comment box, I can’t promise ‘they’ won’t judge but I won’t! Because...

 I’m a freak too!