Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Blind like a passion

I like being blind - to eyes. They say difficult things. They react ordinarily but there are a so many ways to reach the senses, and I always pick a wrong one. So better let go of them, their light, their interest. Assuming no one can see me is a delight, pure heart delight. I am still in practice of this virtual aspiration but I see some positive blood. So why not?
When the souls passing across are running my exclusion, who am I to overpower the truth? And all the more who cares? Besides I love desolated wolves.

Blue sands, white air, scintillating dots, this is my world, unknown somewhere in the corner of a blinding joy.  Yeah, I am exhilarated, being away from the cheating vision. It’s like I am wearing a cloak which hides me from this poisonous valley of acid rain.
It dawned upon me the other day if I am looking for an escape. It’s an awful thought for me, specially for me. Running away, concealing- am I? Does this way, things are falling apart, more than I wanted them to be?
Soon, there’s a shrewd smile on my fair face. It adorns my features. And finally I laugh, hard, so hard that the blindness is laughing with me. I enjoy the motion. I like every part of it.

The whole point of living blind is to let go.
So if you want to love me, then darlin' don't refrain!


JohnJEnright said...

"Assuming no one can see me is a delight, pure heart delight."

Interesting thought-experiment. I don't think I've ever thought of it that way.

Monika said...

Yes sir, more than pleasure its satisfying, try a carefree time.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Sometimes, I've tried to become invisible, that world is oblivious of me, but after a while of revelry, I return into the same state, wishing for the moments to revisit again.

Nice post.

Blasphemous Aesthete

Monika said...

Reading your comments is a delight, pure heart delight, Blasphemous Aesthete.