As I sat down to write this post, I realized that it could easily be misconstrued as a reference to intravenous drugs. Acupuncture is like the antithesis of that: using needles to heal, sending lines of energy through the body rather than heroin.

Points around my body lit up like nodes on an etheric power grid. Darkness. Then glimmering light at the periphery of my vision, sunlight on waves. The feeling of my whole being rippling in a heat haze. Scene of a woman putting up wallpaper in her living room, turns her head over her shoulder to speak to someone out of frame. Then down, down, down a tunnel. Everything behind a dark scrim. A cavern with a stone bridge, leading through arches. Everything is illuminated with inverted light, like a photo of microscopic organisms. I am flying along the path of the bridge, more of a raised highway running over a dark chasm. Doors of strange material sphincter open to reveal diamond-shaped openings that I fly through. Then it is revealed to me: I am under the Tower, coming in through a secret entrance. Of course, of course, of course… never thought about trying to get in from underneath.