Can't Daydream While I Shit?

I have been wondering this for a while now. Been almost a year, since this thought has been swirling around inside my mind. I am a very dedicated daydreamer. No matter what, I can daydream forever. And, some more. Nothing can stop me. Except while I am on the can. I’ve pondered this too much now, you know. Why is it that the bathroom—the one place where the world outside your door seems so distant—becomes a no-go zone for daydreams? It's almost like an unspoken rule of the universe: Daydreaming? Sure. But not here.

I mean, think about it: most other places, your mind runs wild. You can drift into other realities while you're walking, doing dishes, or even sitting through an awful Zoom call. But the second you plant yourself on the throne, something shifts. Your mind, usually so free to wander, suddenly seems tethered to... well, bodily functions. It’s like your brain decides that the realm of the mundane must match the context of your current situation. You're supposed to be focused on the present moment—literally, the present moment.

There’s this paradox too, isn’t there? We’re trained to think of the bathroom as a "break" from everything. Time to relax, right? But relaxation doesn’t always mean daydreaming. It’s almost like your body needs to remind you that it's there, holding the reins for a while. And perhaps that's what blocks your mind from drifting into those fantastical spaces.

But maybe it's a deeper thing. Daydreaming requires a certain kind of creative energy, doesn't it? And when you’re on the can, it's like that energy is siphoned into something else—something more... primal. It’s almost like the act of doing one thing, like attending to your body, leaves little room for the mental chaos of imagination to unfold.

Or maybe, just maybe, the bathroom is the one place where you’re supposed to be here and now—your mind and body synchronized in a singular task. You can’t escape it, so you sit there, aware, instead of floating off into the clouds.

Then again, this doesn't stop me from trying. Maybe that’s the next frontier—daydreaming while I shit. And if anyone can do it, surely it’s the world-class daydreamers like us. Maybe the trick is to find that balance, to learn how to keep your mind wandering while being fully present in the moment.

More? Alright, let’s dive deeper into this. There’s something almost sacred about the act of daydreaming, isn’t there? It’s the ultimate escape—your brain goes off on its own little adventure, weaving stories, conjuring worlds, or just drifting into thoughts that are sometimes too random to even put into words. It’s like a mini-vacation for your mind, a place where anything is possible.

But when you’re on the toilet, it’s like the universe itself says, "No, no, not here." It's as if there’s a force field around that space, a gravitational pull that drags your brain into the Now, instead of letting it float off into the ethers. What is it about this place that blocks that natural flow of thoughts?

Maybe it’s the physicality of the act. You’re in it—the sensation is so immediate, so rooted in your body, that it demands your attention. The feeling of relief, the strange rhythm of it all—it’s like your body takes control and forces your mind to be in the moment. You can’t escape the awkwardness or the rush or the urgency, so your thoughts get stuck on it. Your body is screaming, “Hey, pay attention to me,” while your brain, your creative, drifting, free-thinking brain, is like, "But I was just about to go on an adventure!"

And yet, when you’re at your most vulnerable, when you're at your most exposed, there's still a part of you that craves that mental space. You want to break free, let your thoughts wander, and imagine, but it’s like the world is reminding you that this part of life is so simple, so... necessary. It’s a place of grounding, of routine, where the mind doesn’t need to do anything else but focus on the task at hand.

Perhaps there’s also something profound about the very idea that we try to escape even the most basic of moments. It’s like our minds, so full of distractions, are always chasing after the next thing—always thinking we should be doing more. But when you’re on the can, you’re not supposed to be doing more. You’re supposed to be doing less. And that’s what makes it such a struggle. Your mind is screaming for freedom, but the moment is telling you, “No, just sit here. Be still. Let this simple thing be enough.”

It’s the one place in life that doesn’t ask for your imagination. You can’t just let your mind wander off into fantasy when your body is literally reminding you to stay grounded. It almost feels like a betrayal of your true daydreaming nature. And yet, when you’re done, you’ve given your body exactly what it needed. Isn’t that a kind of mental release too, though?

Maybe we need to stop fighting it. Maybe the bathroom, this oddly mundane, yet intimate space, is trying to teach us something. It’s teaching us that it’s okay to be present sometimes. We don’t always need to be creating, imagining, or escaping into the fantasy world. Maybe there’s magic in letting go of the need to daydream in that particular moment and just... be. The daydreams will still be there when you finish.

Still, though… I’m not giving up entirely. I’m determined to find a way to daydream while I shit, even if I have to carve out a new form of daydreaming that can thrive in that space—one that doesn’t demand too much mental energy but still lets my mind roam free. Maybe it’s not about escaping the experience, but learning how to live in it while still finding a way to drift. A hybrid of the mundane and the marvelous. It could be the next frontier in my daydreaming journey.

Until then, I’ll keep wondering why the toilet is my only creative black hole. Maybe I just need to relax and let the daydreams sneak in, like they always do when I least expect them.

- Oizys.