Meditated Irritation

[You don't have to read this ____, mind you. If the following writing offended you, I am sorry. But I had to try this, it felt so good writing in YOU.]

You happened to come across something about meditation on the Internet and you thought, huh, I might as well try that when I am not busy.

So you took your time and when the time was right, you sat down and read through the whole article on how to meditate and what's the benefits. Really, that cool? You thought. First was the sitting still and not listening to anything annoying. Duh, baby crying next door; drill penetrating on your wall; truck shaking your floor; someone knocking on your door. (Flies sucking on your balls, ouch!)

You then waited till all the noises were gone by filling your ears with cotton balls, movement subsided as you sat on a stack of soft blankets. Everything's ready, except you. You had to ____.

After you finished your business _______, you resumed your position and began to meditate as the article said. You sat still with eyes closed and relaxed the whole body and breathed evenly. Slowly you felt the heat built up inside you, like a core in the volcano formed in your gut. You started to sweat, a lot. You butt itchy, toes numb, legs sore, back broken, brain on fire. Nothing feels that right when it hurts so wrong.

Not even five minutes you started to curse yourself, question yourself. Go ____ yourself, you said. You carried on, remain seated but irritated. Something was definitely wrong. That something was causing you to suffer the immortal pain, like not being able to suck God's ____.

The ten minutes mark was approaching and you felt awfully good about yourself. It wasn't so hard after all. Your mind scrambled through bunch of silly stuff that you wanted to do after this, then you got excited because of an idea. You almost couldn't resist the temptation to do that thing you do.Your mind wandered into another place, you started to wonder if you were delusional.

The time was not up yet, you still had five more minutes to sit through. Five literally 'pain in the ___' minutes. You repositioned yourself to a more comfortable, more relaxed posture. Sweat dripping from your forehead, from your neck, the inside damp as hell. You held on to it, enduring to the last moment.

You could almost taste the victory in salty sweat.

Time was up and you ran away.

You threw meditation away for a long while, not especially thinking about it. Then someday you revisited it, and your feeling towards it got even weirder. It was like going through a journey to the underground, which was also called hell, to find something you never knew that was in the meditation, that was what irritate you the most. Knowing something you never knew.