A seriously depressing tale

about buttholes falling out. Like, right out of your butthole.

Straight up. Buttholes can just come right out of a person.

Did I mention this is going to be depressing? Because it will be.

You know what an anal prolapse is, right? It’s when your butthole falls out.

Here’s an article by Michelle Lhooq for Vice about buttholes falling out (also kinda about the porn industry), if you’re as curious as I was about what the term ‘rosebud‘ means. And in that case, you might just be an over-thinker whose mind hurts from thinking too much about something you’ve seen in life and what might have caused it.

Guilty as charged.

I better stop putting off explaining exactly what I mean.

Two days ago, while procrastinating something somewhat important, I came across the article I linked to earlier. After reading it, I moved on and didn’t think much more about it. I did the somewhat important thing (eventually, and it took up a lot of time, I might add) and then came back home to go to sleep.
Of course, faced with the sight of my ceiling, my mind went into overdrive.

When I was nine years old, I went with my family on a vacation to Tonga, which you may or may not know is my mother’s country of origin. Anyway, we were there for quite a while, maybe two months, and generally, I loved being there. Some extremely insane shit happened, but those are a bunch of other stories for another day or two. All in all, I loved the place and I was sad to return home.

One of the things that remains burnt into my mind is something I saw whilst there.

Please bear with me; my poor li’l brain hurts and I know I mentioned this is going to be depressing and involves buttholes. And now it involves my childhood. Ugh, even better. Anyway.

I was wandering through my aunt’s yard, or rather, I was about to, because I remember standing in the back doorway, looking for my shoes. It was a beautifully sunny afternoon and I think I was about to go into the part of the family land that has guava vines and mango trees. I was also hoping to see one of the neighbour’s sows afterwards, and her relatively new piglets. I remember I was going to try and name them, even though I already had trouble telling them apart, but oh well.

Shoes: found. Yay, walkies. I saw my younger cousin sitting on the grass a few metres from me, so I called out to him, thinking he might wanna come and pick fruit with me and maybe even feed some to the sow I was fixing to see. I thought it might be a cute, fun thing to do with my little cousin, because of course taking a three-year old to see pigs and piglets is cute and fun.

Relatively simple childhood thought.

I called his name, and he jumped a little. Oh no, I thought. I gave him a fright. It seemed OK as soon as he saw it was me, because he replied with my name and leaned forward to get up from his sitting position. As toddlers are sometimes wont to do, he’d been running around in the yard without pants on after a funny little water-fight some of us had earlier, because it was pretty damned hot that day.

He started screaming and crying when he got into this semi-squatting position, and I looked and noticed something was hanging from him, so I thought he’d sat on something and it was hurting him, maybe? I was confused, so I went over to help and comfort him.

I noticed the thing hanging from him was pink and sore-looking and had pieces of grass and grains of sand stuck to it. I was horrified and confused, but I wanted to help. Not that I knew what to do. Just as I was a couple of steps away, his mother appeared and yelled at him to stop screaming. She then picked him up (very hurriedly and roughly, I might add) and walked past me to take him inside.

As I embarked on the walk / tiny adventure I wanted so badly, I wondered what the fuck just happened. Left alone with my thoughts, I racked my brain to guess what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck just happened.

Earlier today, I found myself realising that he had an anal prolapse. That was what was attached to him. That was what was causing him to scream his sad screams. So, I wondered, what causes a little boy’s rectum to just come out of where it belongs like that? A little boy who was handed from home to home. One who jumped in fright when his name was called out.

I froze in abject horror.





My eyes welled up as I realised what happened.

Sorry, I better cut this short. I can’t presently deal with this.


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