amor caecus est .

the camera flashes and her eyes are blinded by infinity. they compliment and coo at her, wanting her to show them more, but when she hears the flash once again there’s only the blot of metallic silver floating where her vision once was. wherever her eyes venture. she’s captured.

she sways, unable to focus. it’s like the bright world around her is being blocked out momentarily, and wherever she tries to look there’s something between her and the beauty of life. for a few seconds it excites her, entertaining her interest and tickling her curiosity. yet the seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and before she knows it a half a lifetime has passed away with pieces missing. even when she closes her eyes it’s there, omnipresent, stubborn, unrelenting. the only time she can escape it is in her dreams. and sometimes not even.

she lives knowing there is something wonderful behind it, but not able to see through. her ears can hear and her hands can touch, but the beauty of it all is lost without the ability to see, because sometimes seeing allows you to feel more than anything else ever could.

sometimes she sits and imagines the clouds that form different shapes in the sky, and longs for freedom from this curse. sometimes she forgets it’s there for a moment. and sometimes she talks to the old man named society, who lies and tells her that everything’s okay.

that it gets better. that you’re never meant to see through it completely. that it will always be there, lurking in the shadows. that even though it tips your balance you don’t have to stumble.

that if it goes away, you were never captivated, or captivating enough.

and that once you’re touched by such a powerful source of light, the correct terminology isn’t “blind,” it’s “whole.”

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    • Z.
    • November 1st, 2010

    Hi liz

    I like this:

    “wherever she tries to look there’s something between her and the beauty of life” !

    🙂

  1. i love it in many ways, your story is great

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