Growing Ground | Tricycle:
"“I’ve been doing it my whole life,” I cried. “I just go in a bowl, pull the metal lever and it’s gone. I don’t know where it goes, but I know I never see it again. You’ve been out of civilization too long.” He chuckled, sizing me up. I was still wearing clothing from my former incarnation as a Los Angeles jet-setter. While great for camouflaging my straightness at gay dance clubs and making me look like Ryan Seacrest, my wardrobe was not quite suited for the rigors of mountain living. “You came here for the Zenima, didn’t you, to get flushed clean of all your crap,” he sighed. “But it doesn’t work like that—there’s no guru or godhead to carry your shit away in a golden box. You have to learn to deal with it—to work with it—yourself. You’re gonna have to get dirty up here.”"
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