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The inability to hold my bladder for extended periods had made me a regular visitor of public restrooms. Once seated, it cannot be helped that my eyes would wander around the small cubicle, taking in every detail.
Damn.
I don’t know if walls really do have ears, but they sure can talk.
Scrawled all over the door are proclamations of love, political commentary, enough obscenity to last a lifetime, and of course, the usual profanity.
Public restrooms, though public, still offer their visitors a certain degree of privacy, which means that the individual is pretty much left to his or her business. Logically, it is where anyone can write down what they will without the risk of being seen. The sense of anonymity the restroom offers is rather tempting. No wonder people have the courage to write stuff there.
Though it seems that most graffiti can be seen in the restrooms of less refined establishments, it is not always the case. One restroom stall I happened to use in a popular mall actually showcases its own share of graffiti. A sheet of bond paper with numerous handwritings is plastered to the door. Amusingly, it seems like someone tried to remove it, but only succeeded in ripping the edges off, leaving the middle part where most of the writings are.
While most of these graffiti found in public restrooms can be considered hogwash, some can be rather entertaining, not to mention beautiful and inspirational. Also, even though the subject is disgusting, when there are replies to these messages, the reading becomes interesting. The public restroom being exactly that, public – it gives everyone the chance to air their opinion.
Theoretically, people condemn the act of writing anything on public domain, much more those that consist of crass language. On the surface, these writings look like minor cases of vandalism (although, of course, the definition of “minor” is relative). However, what if we look at them in a different light? What if these scrawls across our restroom cubicle walls mean more than what they are saying?
In 1973, Norman Mailer wrote an essay entitled “The Faith of Graffiti” wherein he referred to graffiti as folk art; “the admittedly crass expression of the collective hopes, desires, and fears of the underclass.”
I don’t know how sure he was when he wrote the word “underclass,” (the person who wrote graffiti on the restroom cubicle may be of high status and he or she happened to have an uncontrollable bladder as mine, for all you know) but I have to agree with the rest of the phrase.
Hopes, desires and fears are things people barely talk about under normal circumstances… unless under the influence of alcohol (or something else), that is. These things, however, need to be expressed lest one is courting a heart attack. Expressing oneself is vital in one’s course of life. One is not missing an audience, though. If one writes something within a restroom cubicle, one can assure an audience. In fact, one can even return to the restroom cubicle and there may be a possibility of finding that one’s communicated problems may be answered by other public restroom users who offer their support through humor, advice and even inspirational statements. And then there might also be a lot of wisecracks which are unavoidable.
(Of course, I am talking about female public restrooms. I don’t have any idea what kind of graffiti may be found within the male restrooms, although I think it is safe to say that there is graffiti in there.)
Although the idea that there are deeper reasons to why one would stain a clean wall with ink other than barbarism (it may be recalled that our ancestors wrote on walls… cave walls) seems rather questionable, shedding a little more light into one’s previous notions may be helpful in understanding human nature, which, by the way, happens to work in rather mysteriously disturbing ways.
After all, who are we to judge those who relieve their inner feelings in public restrooms as they relieve their bladder (or even their intestines)? It’s not like we have any sure idea on their motives for writing, anyway. For all we know, the person may be sitting in the restroom cubicle, with the toilet cover down, crying and pouring her heart out on the walls. On the other hand, the person can be on crack – who knows?
One thing is sure though, if you find a restroom cubicle full of graffiti and you’re not someone who is ridiculously disinterested, reading them can give you enough entertainment for the time you are sitting there, doing your business.
Damn.
I don’t know if walls really do have ears, but they sure can talk.
Scrawled all over the door are proclamations of love, political commentary, enough obscenity to last a lifetime, and of course, the usual profanity.
Public restrooms, though public, still offer their visitors a certain degree of privacy, which means that the individual is pretty much left to his or her business. Logically, it is where anyone can write down what they will without the risk of being seen. The sense of anonymity the restroom offers is rather tempting. No wonder people have the courage to write stuff there.
Though it seems that most graffiti can be seen in the restrooms of less refined establishments, it is not always the case. One restroom stall I happened to use in a popular mall actually showcases its own share of graffiti. A sheet of bond paper with numerous handwritings is plastered to the door. Amusingly, it seems like someone tried to remove it, but only succeeded in ripping the edges off, leaving the middle part where most of the writings are.
While most of these graffiti found in public restrooms can be considered hogwash, some can be rather entertaining, not to mention beautiful and inspirational. Also, even though the subject is disgusting, when there are replies to these messages, the reading becomes interesting. The public restroom being exactly that, public – it gives everyone the chance to air their opinion.
Theoretically, people condemn the act of writing anything on public domain, much more those that consist of crass language. On the surface, these writings look like minor cases of vandalism (although, of course, the definition of “minor” is relative). However, what if we look at them in a different light? What if these scrawls across our restroom cubicle walls mean more than what they are saying?
In 1973, Norman Mailer wrote an essay entitled “The Faith of Graffiti” wherein he referred to graffiti as folk art; “the admittedly crass expression of the collective hopes, desires, and fears of the underclass.”
I don’t know how sure he was when he wrote the word “underclass,” (the person who wrote graffiti on the restroom cubicle may be of high status and he or she happened to have an uncontrollable bladder as mine, for all you know) but I have to agree with the rest of the phrase.
Hopes, desires and fears are things people barely talk about under normal circumstances… unless under the influence of alcohol (or something else), that is. These things, however, need to be expressed lest one is courting a heart attack. Expressing oneself is vital in one’s course of life. One is not missing an audience, though. If one writes something within a restroom cubicle, one can assure an audience. In fact, one can even return to the restroom cubicle and there may be a possibility of finding that one’s communicated problems may be answered by other public restroom users who offer their support through humor, advice and even inspirational statements. And then there might also be a lot of wisecracks which are unavoidable.
(Of course, I am talking about female public restrooms. I don’t have any idea what kind of graffiti may be found within the male restrooms, although I think it is safe to say that there is graffiti in there.)
Although the idea that there are deeper reasons to why one would stain a clean wall with ink other than barbarism (it may be recalled that our ancestors wrote on walls… cave walls) seems rather questionable, shedding a little more light into one’s previous notions may be helpful in understanding human nature, which, by the way, happens to work in rather mysteriously disturbing ways.
After all, who are we to judge those who relieve their inner feelings in public restrooms as they relieve their bladder (or even their intestines)? It’s not like we have any sure idea on their motives for writing, anyway. For all we know, the person may be sitting in the restroom cubicle, with the toilet cover down, crying and pouring her heart out on the walls. On the other hand, the person can be on crack – who knows?
One thing is sure though, if you find a restroom cubicle full of graffiti and you’re not someone who is ridiculously disinterested, reading them can give you enough entertainment for the time you are sitting there, doing your business.
