curettage dilatation pathophysiology

I think back to my acid trip.� I�remember the way it felt to come back from a sense of senselessness, and of unity, into my own form. I was in the shower and I looked at my hands, my feet my legs. I felt my flesh as I lathered. It was as if a bleeding image slowly formed into a definite shape. Perhaps it was a bit like looking at Seratapos;s work up close, and then getting far, far away so that the shapes become defined. But my shape was even more defined than those works, with all the space in between the dots. I became solid once more. And I felt that solidity. I felt the weight of my breasts and the curve of my hips, and I�felt the pull of the earth beneath my feet. But I�also felt light; the fear of being a shape that didnapos;t fit someone elseapos;s desire no longer added to my mass. These were my hips, my lips, my cheeks the water ran down. My tongue that tasted the sweetness of the water. My lungs that breathed the damp air. And when I got out of the shower, and put on my dirty clothes, I�looked into the mirror. What had been a plaything in the night, a thing that changed and delighted, became a clear reflection. I still delighted in the image before me, because I am an attractive person. Itapos;s hard to know that sometimes. That morning I looked with fresh eyes. I liked what I�saw. I remember that at times and I smile.
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