I move through the space, my bladder full. I am searching for the toilet and I can’t find. Often the walls are pulled and shifted by some rhythm that I cannot seem to get the hang of. My feet betray their inability to dance to the dictates of the masses. I tuck them under my body, like a duck with her broodlings, hoping no one will notice. Their eyes, their senses are fixated on something else and my asynchronicity is hidden for now.