the dance of the ink riddled fingers

little care, vision impaired.

Posted in 52 pickup, thought spills by enisea on 22/05/2012

Aghast at her more recent frequency to short-sighted impaired vision, she caught herself rolling her eyes more.  Looking further than the immediate had blurred considerably, so that the balance she knew was important had somewhat been forgotten.  The bigger picture was not a vision she could appreciate with shallow sight… and she wondered how soon she would wear tired of hearing descriptions of what she seemed less able to view (what she cared less to view).  But she knew her depth perception was skewed and the last few falls had been the result of tripping over potentially dangerous obstacles which were not successfully navigated around.

Throwing her vision further required practice… and it tired her.  Not to mention it warranting confusion – it is one thing to know what it is one expects to see and another entirely different to begin to make out outlines and have absolutely no idea how it assembles into any sort of sensible picture.

The last few days have been tiring.  I’ve flirted too often with stupid thoughts of mild consequence.  I’ve entertained how to indulge in yet escape my sin – and I know it’s impossible, I just humour myself.  I think the main road block in my indulgent stupidity is not my own wellbeing (that seems negligible, currently), but whoever elses I might effect – because as apathetic and short-sighted as I can reduce myself to, I think even the thought of ruining another’s vision has same effect as smelling salts on the sleepy.

Oh, and how’s this for wonderful – I thought that every little victory would have me see every star twinkle with a little more sparkle, or at least provoke me to skip a couple of metres – but it has yet to.  I get to sigh or roll my eyes as some rhetoric persona in my mind congratulates me with Pharisaic mock for my small refrain.  But I suppose I can’t complain, I’m sure there are others who resist worse temptations than mine, with less support and who feel more dull than I (and how disturbing is it that this thought is mildly satisfying).

I’ll tell you all about it when again my vision is restored (to better than before).
The procedures are less than pleasurable, that’s for sure.

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