Monday, 08 March 2004
Dad, let me tell you that I think you are beautiful. I'm really thankful that I've inherited you genes. Most embryos, I imagine, aren’t as lucky. Whatever embryo is eventually spawned by that other guy: Man, I’m sorry for you.Today, as you can imagine, was quite uneventful. Well, not quite. I did differentiate from my protoblast to pictoblast stage, whatever that means. I believe I have about 20 cells right now that constitute my body. But as that number increases exponentially, you bet your knickers I’ll be sizeable in no time!
Dad, I noticed you’ve been smoking around lately: I recommend you quit now! I can only hope Mommy won’t succumb to your repulsive habit.
Apart from these misadventures, I have noticed something oddly asymmetric with world lately. I noticed that as I became decreasingly mobile; perhaps I am weighted at some end. This would mean that the chemical gradient has already kicked in. Back when I was omnipotent, I had so many possibilities ahead of me. I’m old already! Old, feeble, and immobile.
Luckily, however, the extra weight has lodged me quite comfortably into a fold of my mother’s uterus, which is now nourishing the hell out of me.
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