 Natalie Books, Skies, Colours, STARS And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day icon : violetbirdy |
Saturday, October 19, 2013 @ 12:33 PM |
comment (0) Sometimes she wonders what it'd be like to be utterly blind. To wake up one day, open your eyes are realise that everything is black and dark and you'll never see the sun again, or rejoice at the sky's changing colours, and having to grope your way past everything. Her eyes are failing. She can feel them. The edges are blurring out and the world has suddenly become a lot more dream-like. She sees the impression of a tree in the distance, a dappled green halo on a brown trunk. People's faces are softer, smoother, her eyes have blurred out the imperfections to the point of non-existence. She fears blindness. And yet, when she puts on her spectacles, it's as if her sight has come rushing back, and she is always momentarily stunned by the vivacity of life around her, clear and bright and vivid. She can see each leaf on the tree, outlined in dark green, the spotted trunk, the cheery colours of freshly painted blocks calling out a greeting to her. And people, all around her, so varied. She can see the pimples, the blackheads, stray hairs, and she feels a surge of revulsion and panic. It's as if she is seeing the world through new eyes and that scares her. Things are not what they seem. She sees all life with startling clarity, but she can also see the decay. So, she goes back to wondering what it would be like to be blind. She wonders if she could live without being able to marvel at a work of art or beauty; to exist solely on the basis of sound. No more reading for her if she goes blind. And when she thinks about it, her stomach contracts in horror. True, audio books exist, but then she would have to trust that the reader was capturing the nuances of the text accurately. She wouldn't be able to imagine the sound of the words. A hoarse voice would be the specific voice of the readers and not the one she has in mind. She wouldn't be able to form her own impressions. And crossing the roads would be a nightmare. She would have to confine herself to her home. She closes her eyes and hears the whoosh of the traffic passing by her window. She imagines the speed at which the cars are moving; hears the nasal whine of engines as they curve around the bend. She concludes that she does not wish to be blind. |