My glasses help me see. A pretty basic statement, I know I know, but it's the truth. Without my glasses, I become a part of the fog that surrounds my everyday life. My soul aches to see color, however, my eyes are foggy as the marine layer that hovers around my house. I am clouded by whispers while I choke on food that I am allergic to. "I couldn't see that shellfish!" I yell to the people who may or may not be around me. I make up vague personas in my dim perspective to better help me cope with the lie that buzzes around me. Is it a bee? Is it a reindeer? Oh yeah, the trash collector comes today. I guarantee that if I had my glasses I would be able to see those guardsmen headed straight at me.

Now I'm flat on my back without my glasses. Staring up at the vacant window which are my eyes. If I open the blinds slowly I'll see the shutters dangling as my lashes do so to awaken my complexion. Dogs bark, I think. The sound which emanates behind me is a circle of pleading. Maybe if I open my eyes wide enough it will help. "Not this time", yells the sun waving a giant middle finger. It's the last image I see before pinballing back down into my blind embrace.

People say bad things which occur may be a "blessing in disguise". Well, whoever said that probably had glasses because as far as I can tell I am falling for all sorts of disguises since my blessings have an insufferable need to play Halloween every day of the week. Perhaps if someone was able to help me learn echolocation, the voice of my ancestors, I would be able to better judge out the distance from an object to my direct body. I think this as I am laying here on my back after being reminded of my poor senses only a few moments earlier.

"That wasn't a hiccup, I was breathing in quickly and without effort." I say it to make a point, what that point is I have still not figured out yet. There is a silence after I say that. No more sounds to help me decipher where I may be. There is something different about the way everything feels around me, however. My bones are rattling and chattering. My heart is keeping time as my body communicates without me. I think about how I want to learn their language, but that the language they speak is already within me. "I am on the verge of a modern marvel," I think to myself, "No one has ever communicated with their body before." I try to stand up to ask my toes a question. "Someone get her some glasses" my meditation is interrupted as someone places the plastic on my face.

When I open my eyes the lenses click. I am awake. I am alone. Ignorance truly can be bliss.

Dear Fate,

I do not appreciate being toyed with.

Sincerely, A Blind Person