My shoulders and back were where the sun most enthusiastically colored my skin, and I've never seen my skin peel like this before. It is not unlike plastic shrink-wrap, in that it is totally inseperable from its contents until the smallest tear is made, at which point great strips can be pulled off. Then again, it also resembles stickers upon a wax paper backing, which are difficult to remove until a corner is worked up from the flat surface.
But I think I'll stick with the shrink-wrap comparison, for just as shrink-wrap tends to enclose bright, shiny merchandise with the shine of the factory still upon it, pinkish-tan patches of brand-new skin are visible where their dead wrappings have been torn away. The analogy is most appropriate except for the matter that I'm tugging at the dead skin not so much to get at what's underneath as to get the extraordinarily disgusting flakes of gray ex-epidermis off me.
Moving on, a paragraph or two are in order concerning the unprecedented death of Trevor's blog. May its archives rest peaceful in the everlasting servers of Blogger Almighty. May no power surge, no errant magnetic field disrupt their quiescence! Amen.
I think, though, that he should've waited until the school year had gotten itself thorougly going. As I mentioned a few days ago, the waning of weird-energy, though galling, can be easily ascribed to the mental laxitude of the summer months. But in any case, Introversion, or whatever he was calling it at the last, shall be missed.
posted on Saturday, July 26, 2003
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