Mexican food aftermath

Oh. Number five.

**Number five.**

Well, if you really wanna know…

I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was fast asleep, dreaming about something I cannot really remember. All I do remember is that I started feeling a pressure all around my body, that kept increasing and increasing, and it felt much more “real” than typical dream feelings.

I wake.

I felt very, very bad.

Imagine if your *entire body* had to take a shit. That’s the best I can describe it.

The lights were off, so I had no idea how I looked. But my skin felt… bumpy. Almost like alligator skin. Running my fingers across my body and I felt dozens, maybe even hundreds, of rigid bumps all across my skin, like tiny little mountain ranges. They were painful to the touch and felt as if they were going to burst at any moment.

I had no time to even feel concerned. I knew what I had to do.

I walked, painfully, into the bathroom. I turned the lights on but nothing happened; the light must have burnt out. I forgot to grab my phone as a light so that’s out. No matter. I’ll feel my way around.

I made sure I was completely undressed and I stepped into the bathtub.

In an excruciatingly slow and painful process, I began tensing every muscle in my body. From each and every raised nodule on my skin, I felt it. The thick, greasy sebum with hardened chunks thrown in for good texture, slowly oozing out of every. Single. Pore. In my body. Even in places I didn’t know I had pores; my tongue was oozing fluid, my toes were oozing fluid, my armpits were gushing with oily, nasty fluid.

Slowly, the lights started to come on. That’s when I saw myself in the mirror, and realized that the lights had been on this entire time. I was simply blinded by the number of swollen boils on my face.

They were everywhere.

These weren’t just your average pimples. These were boils, which, when popped, left visible, thick, black pits where the sebum once was. My body was beginning to take on the texture of a lotus pod.

More oily excrement oozed out of my pores. I was too in shock to do anything but stand there and squeeze this… stuff out of myself. I felt it drop to the floor of the bathtub and slither around my toes, when I realized something: it wasn’t sebum that was oozing out of me.

They were worms.

That’s the last fucking time I eat Taco Bell at 4am, and that’s the story of how I went number five. Number five is worms. Don’t do number five.

#Mexican #food #aftermath

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  1. Oh. Number five.

    **Number five.**

    Well, if you really wanna know…

    I remember it like it was yesterday.

    I was fast asleep, dreaming about something I cannot really remember. All I do remember is that I started feeling a pressure all around my body, that kept increasing and increasing, and it felt much more “real” than typical dream feelings.

    I wake.

    I felt very, very bad.

    Imagine if your *entire body* had to take a shit. That’s the best I can describe it.

    The lights were off, so I had no idea how I looked. But my skin felt… bumpy. Almost like alligator skin. Running my fingers across my body and I felt dozens, maybe even hundreds, of rigid bumps all across my skin, like tiny little mountain ranges. They were painful to the touch and felt as if they were going to burst at any moment.

    I had no time to even feel concerned. I knew what I had to do.

    I walked, painfully, into the bathroom. I turned the lights on but nothing happened; the light must have burnt out. I forgot to grab my phone as a light so that’s out. No matter. I’ll feel my way around.

    I made sure I was completely undressed and I stepped into the bathtub.

    In an excruciatingly slow and painful process, I began tensing every muscle in my body. From each and every raised nodule on my skin, I felt it. The thick, greasy sebum with hardened chunks thrown in for good texture, slowly oozing out of every. Single. Pore. In my body. Even in places I didn’t know I had pores; my tongue was oozing fluid, my toes were oozing fluid, my armpits were gushing with oily, nasty fluid.

    Slowly, the lights started to come on. That’s when I saw myself in the mirror, and realized that the lights had been on this entire time. I was simply blinded by the number of swollen boils on my face.

    They were everywhere.

    These weren’t just your average pimples. These were boils, which, when popped, left visible, thick, black pits where the sebum once was. My body was beginning to take on the texture of a lotus pod.

    More oily excrement oozed out of my pores. I was too in shock to do anything but stand there and squeeze this… stuff out of myself. I felt it drop to the floor of the bathtub and slither around my toes, when I realized something: it wasn’t sebum that was oozing out of me.

    They were worms.

    That’s the last fucking time I eat Taco Bell at 4am, and that’s the story of how I went number five. Number five is worms. Don’t do number five.

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