I’m walking through the city with my aunt. I get fidgety. We don’t have smartphones or the internet or vape or smoke or anything really.
My aunt says, “Why don’t you just go into a meditation chamber? They’re all over. I can entertain myself for a while.”
Every town and city has meditation chambers. Single-occupancy only. Since too many of us are crammed into tiny houses and tinier apartments and corporations own nearly everything, the government decided people were entitled to ten minutes of privacy at least once a day. This was relatively easy for them to afford since they no longer paid for any kind of institutions or infrastructure. They were cleaned by prisoners and the disabled. The intent was for them to be used for prayer or meditation. Because I sleep on a couch in an apartment with ten-to-fifteen other family members, I mostly use them for masturbation.
I thank my aunt and dash off into a masturbation chamber where I really go wild and release a copious amount. I clean up as best as possible and look woefully at the tip code. I’d like to leave one, but so much of my income is taken to fund the police, the military, and politicians’ lavish lifestyles, I actually make negative income.
I leave the chamber and find my aunt. She’s with some other older folks. They stop talking when I get near, but their eyes roam my body. I feel judged and force myself to present as more grounded and connected to a mythological being or force rather than satisfied, relaxed, and spent.
I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they start putting cameras in the meditation chambers. Then it will be meditating/praying/thinking only.
I remind myself to practice masturbating without using my hands.
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