The times and cycles of my life – A story of womanly issues
The life cycle of the breast
Ashley Davidoff
I was born of the blanket of the flesh that covered her chest. Although I knew my mother I had no clue who my father was.
I was barely three months old. A lot of things were happening around me. Cells and tissues were scurrying around in a hub of construction. Time seemed to be moving fast and a lot of refinement of structure was evolving on the already well established structural foundation. After a brief consideration of taking a breather I suddenly got a new energy and a yearning to explore … there seemed to be something missing from my life – I needed fulfillment – I needed to become whole.
Aside from the sounds of ebb and flow and a beating heartbeat from the core, there were no other sounds. Nobody said a word. It was if all they all knew exactly what to do and were driven by a force greater than themselves. This was quite frightening but the organization seemed so magnificent and the vision of this integrated body seemed so noble that I followed my instincts in similar silence. When there was some respite of activity silent messages were transmitted through the cell vine. The vision was to build a human force that not only had body but also had mind and soul. Well those too sounded noble but I had no clue what they might mean. I nodded in affirmation since this seemed to be the gesture of all and I hoped that someday I would understand – blind faith I suppose.
Well back to this incomplete feeling and my yearning for fulfillment. It seemed that I did not have what it would take to play any part in the grand person we were constructing. I felt almost as if part of my body was missing.
Without conscious decision I suddenly found myself hurtling through the dermis into the hypodermis only to be inextricably joined with the mesenchyme which came from matriarch Leah the mother of vessels muscle and connectivity of all tissues. She was the one who brought us all together. I went blindly onward penetrating the epidermis and dermis and to my surprise this was not just my desire but it seemed that this was also my destiny for completion. It was not a matter of a love affair or anything like that. It seemed that for my completion I absolutely needed to combine forces with miss mesenchyme who was heading toward me. The forces of our union were beyond our control … and now we were one and our destiny we were told was as important as any. We would be the fuel of future generations. Babies would lust after us and were going to drink the fruit of our factories with gusto. Men would bow down to us. Industry would revel in our form and build billions of brassieres to support us – we had no idea what this was all about.
Anyway together we felt important and good about ourselves.
What did we look like at this stage? In a word we were scrawny. We certainly did not like the heroines we were promised to be. We could be described as long and lanky tubes– tree like in our branching pattern – winter trees that is.. We were dormant without leaves and without function. We felt naked without leaves and without the promised cushions of fat that were to come later in life. We consisted at this stage of 18 tubes radially distributed around the nipple. In the far distance I could see the ocean or so it seemed like an ocean. I peaked out and met Ms areola and Ms nipple as well – all really part of me.
And then suddenly there was the jolt. Our rapidly evolving mistress was growing in leaps and bounds but she was far from the goddess of body mind and soul. And then I felt a rumbling as my engines started to fire up. I knew we were getting close to delivery but I was only going to be a baby – nowher nearly able to nurse . So why were my engines starting I said to myself?
The bloody ol Estra Jen – some called her estra gin – because she was a slave driver and could drive us to drink When she is around it is work work work evry minute and hour We had Even before birth my engines wete fireing Where did this Estra Jen come from – My ovaries were certainly not working yet I looked down – and yes certainly – quiet as a dormouse – our family jewels – resting
Consider this….
I was born of the blanket of the flesh that covered her chest. Although I knew my mother I had no clue who my father was. My mother was called “Sarah Ectoderm” and she was one of the 4 matriarchs 3 of whom had the control of all human structure. She is mostly responsible for the intellectual development of the human race and is responsible for creating the outermost protective form. In more scientific terms the ectoderm is responsible for the development of skin and brain. Leah Mesoderm is the second matriarch and she is responsible for the brawn of life – muscle and connective tissue. The last matriarch of this episode of life is Rachel Endoderm – she is responsible for handling the foods of life . The 4th matriarch Rebecca is not unfortunately part of this story.