Taking a 45-minute shower in a shared hostel while people wait outside? FUCK YOU.

You walked into the bathroom with your little towel and your plastic bag of shit
And didn’t come out for forty-five. fucking. minutes.
What the fuck were you doing in there?

Rebirthing?
Shaving your spiritual trauma?
Summoning the rain gods to bless your armpits?

This is a hostel, not your private rainforest retreat.
There’s one shower.
One.
And you’re in there steaming like a fucking dumpling while six people are lined up outside getting progressively more homicidal.

You’re not cleansing yourself.
You’re hogging shared resources like a selfish crustacean.
And no, we don’t care if you walked 30 kilometers today.
So did everyone else.
They stink too.
But unlike you, they have this thing called basic fucking awareness.

Meanwhile, you’re in there
Conditioning.
De-conditioning.
Singing.
Meditating.
Possibly rearranging your trauma into chakra order.

And the worst part?
You come out smiling.
Wrapped in a towel.
Face fresh.
Like you just did everyone a favor by gracing the bathroom with your majestic wet presence.

FUCK. YOU.

You wasted water.
You wasted time.
You tested everyone's patience.
You made someone almost piss their pants.
And you acted like that’s fine.

You want a 45-minute shower?
Book a hotel.
Or better yet, go rent a fucking cave and let nature take care of your ass.

Because until you learn how to wash your body in under 10 minutes like a functioning member of society

FUCK YOU.