ProvingThe smell is tart, the sample is tasteless
The tree appears to bear white flowers (white to beige tips on the branches), like a wedding dress.
I am reminded of a young woman wearing high heels. She appears proud and walks with her head held high. ‘I am special, parts of me can transform.’ (Scaly leaves become light in colour at the tips)
‘I know what I want: I can be adaptable, but also prickly when something goes against the grain.’
My head feels empty; there is slight pressure in the front left part of my forehead.
My larynx closes and I find it difficult to swallow.
Images appear in the distance, but I cannot grasp them. It is like being in a fog. My eyes are there, but they cannot see anything.
Calm returns – both outside and inside.
I do not allow contact with ‘I am special and that has to be enough.’
I experience myself as an outsider and I do not allow relationships – a little snobbish.