I just caught myself staring into my belly button. You know how lava lamps look when one blob splits into 2, like the center starts getting all stretched out and then *snap* it's two different blobs? well, that's what i'm picturing when a mother gives birth. That's what your belly button is. It's where you used to be physcially part of your mother. It's a scar. what your mom used to eat and drink used to come through that. this isn't the first time i found myself staring at my body today. When i was in the shower, I was looking at the wrinkles in my palms for a long time. They are identical from left to right, only my left hand has an inch long wrinkle from between the ring and pinking pulling towards the center, and my right hand has an inch long wrinkle between my index and middle pulling towards the center. The similarities are crazy. How does that happen? After i got out of the shower, I was staring at my stretch marks across my chest, the creases of my stomach, and my hairline. how is it that *that* encases my life system? crazy stuff. sometimes, i swear i had LSD for breakfast.