There comes a time, when on the surface, there are no more hidden secrets, no mysteries to explore, and no sensations left to feel. When the out shell has been sent through the wash cycle a billion times, scrubbed, burnt, gouged, photographed, exposed, cut, abused, loved, caressed, hated, chilled, heated, wind burned and saturated with all manner of experiences. And at this pinnacle, the reward is that of Jacques-Cousteau proportions, to plumb the debts into the darkest and most unexplored regions, to go against the current and into the vortex.
So here I stand, almost fully void and prepped, on the eve of this great adventure, when, at a time fit for the contemplative moments of the day, I will undergo what most can only dream about like 14 to 15 year olds waiting to learn to drive: a colonoscopy.
Wish me luck. Pictures to follow.
Loren M. Lambert © June 10, 2013
So here I stand, almost fully void and prepped, on the eve of this great adventure, when, at a time fit for the contemplative moments of the day, I will undergo what most can only dream about like 14 to 15 year olds waiting to learn to drive: a colonoscopy.
Wish me luck. Pictures to follow.
Loren M. Lambert © June 10, 2013
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