You begin to wonder about your place in the grand scheme of things. It's easy to feel small when the sky is big, easy to feel big when the lens is myopic, easy to feel anything at all with a little manipulation, really. But the gnawing feeling when you go to bed in the dark, silent night is that there's a core to your own knowledge you've spent too many years burying, and that it'll take more than a few nights of solid sleep to unearth it.
The unease begins to tickle its way under your skin, make you uncomfortable. You recognize the necessity, even as it itches, you are tempted to dip your whole body in its acid bath, see what image develops.
See who you are when you've scratched your skin
raw.
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