This admittedly does not fit in humour, it's really quite reflective, but it IS a random topic lmfao.
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Soap. The one reliable thing in our day. We pass through the door, feeling fatigue coursing through our veins. As we peel off the sartorial straitjacket that is our uniform, we slide carefully into the tepid water, while wishing it was steaming hot, allowing the rainbow bubbles to bounce about. They comfort us, childish and sweet.
We lie still, only moving to lightly swish and swirl the water into slow vortexes and watch the weaker parts of the foam dissolve. We grow bored of this after near ten minutes and pull our whole head down under the wetness. We open our eyes for the briefest second and glimpse the outside world from our silent hideaway. Then we resurface, partly for air, but mostly to wash the sting from the soap out of our eyes.
We glance at the foggy mirror and reach over to wipe the surface without standing up in the bath. The sclera, the white part, it's all red now. Like tiny little blood vessels are booming with anger. Or life.
We emerge, clean, renewed, smelling like a field of forget-me-nots and wisterias. Wrapping the towel around ourselves, feeling only the gossamer-soft terrycloth against our bare skin, it seems spiritual, almost, and all our worries have been washed away with today's dirt from the outdoor concert.
We sigh, sorry that the time to put on our clothes once again. They slip on with ease, our skin now smooth and dry. The flush from our cheeks looks painted on and rosy, yesterday's breakout gone.
That night, at the concert afterparty, a tall, perfect-looking boy asks you to dance. As he leans closer, he remarks, "You smell nice."
Ah, all because of soap.
Hehe, when i first read this there was an add for olive oil soap at the bottom, how perfect! Anyway, I liked it, very descriptive and yes, random. I think I'll go take a bubble bath now!