In one dream scene, I abruptly hopped out of some machine and quickly sat down on some cube-like stool resting on the ground nearby. Whatever had been happening inside that thing, the pain was excruciating and I was out of breath. Upon exit, after sitting, I was still in pain. It was my hypersensitive skin. I looked down at my body, specifically my thighs, and at what I knew to be undeveloped skin. It was very soft and thin. Plale white, dilapidated, nearly transparent, and as soon as I noted I could see my veins all to clearly I stopped looking. If I saw my internal organs, I feared that might be too much. I had this terror that my skin might burst apart and I would die in agony. I had this hope that even outside the machine the outer layers of my skin would swiftly grow and I would become desensitized. Callous. Numb to this horror. As soon as I leapt out of the machine and sat down there was someone crouched down beside me, trying to comfort me.