Thread it through me, baby

Pasta with mushrooms, peas, water. Beers.

Someone is revealing the nature of the world to me, that things are not nearly as solid as they seem. Most things are actually just shells, full of gas. Several examples are given, knocking holes in things, even a person is broken open, their shoulder broken off, hollow inside. Like a world made of hollow chocolate Easter rabbits.

A black string (the poly string from the big spindle I've had forever) is threaded through me, gastrointestinally. It's extremely long, however, probably 100 yards. I'm at a grocery, I think the Smiths up at Carlisle and Constitution, and I realize that my string is out the door, in the parking lot. I follow it out there, leaving a good deal behind. I gotta put a stop to this, so I grab it and kinda rip-chord it through me. It comes out, kinda burning in my esophagus (don't know if I pulled the mouth end or the ass end, but it seems like I pulled the ass end). But I realize with some mild horror that that string had been on the dirty store floor, under foot and grimy with shopping card wheel, and I just pulled it through me, and now all of those germs and dirt are inside my body. (Do I vomit?)

(I did awaken this morning with a feeling in my esophagus like it had been burnt or traumatized.)