I went to a rave, some number of years ago. Attendance was about 30,000 people, it was a beautiful white sand beach in the middle of summer, many hours away from my home. I don't know how to swim, really, as I tend to sink rather than float, but I like spending time in the shallows. I splashed around for a while, cooled off. Fun.
The rave itself was pretty kickass, aside from the security guards, the 10$ a pop bottles of water, the 'port-a-potty problem', and a few other slight problems.
Anyhow.
A few days later, I'm back in the city, at a friend's house, when I get all these terrible red welts over my arms, shoulders, and back. Itchy as fuck, too. And nothing I tried would make them any less itchy, or any less red.
After a few days I went to see my doctor, revealing to her all of my bumpy glory.
"Bugs!"
"What?"
"You've got bugs!"
"What do you mean, I've got... bugs?"
"It's called swimmer's itch. It happens when a little larval flatworm crawls into your body, hoping that you're a bird, and it can grow up and lay all kinds of eggs in you."
(With dawning horror) "...you mean I'm covered... in hundreds and hundreds of tiny little bugs.... and they've all burrowed under my skin, where they're going to slowly starve and die?"
"Yup!"
...
They're still there, too. If you look at my upper arms, shoulders, or back, there's these hundreds of tiny little white dots that mark my skin. My doctor said that I could do something to try to have them removed, if I wanted, but I kind of like them how they are.
I figure they'll serve as a warning to others of their kind. A graveyard of sorts, not unlike the warnings left by Vlad Tepes.
Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
Jairus 7 May 2004
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