I know a woman who often doesn't wear her glasses on purpose. She admits that, "I don't necessarily want to see everything clearly." I pondered if that is denial or a form of protection but gave up trying to shuffle between the two. It is a wildly rebellious gesture in the frame of an otherwise play-by-the rules type of personage.
Do you remember half-shutting your eyes as a child and walking around with your arms out-stretched, rediscovering the known while you felt your way into the fuzz? Or even shutting them tight to let the sun burn stars onto your eyelids? We too then, weren't so desperate for everything to be utterly outlined with a thin blade of black line that can often willingly fall into "Look Here. Believe This." Maybe it is just a question of time. Now, we rush through without enough to blow smoke rings or briny bubbles, made out of all that is half-known. Lucky then--lucky then?--a keeper sweeps our steps from under our feet while we go, leaving a softer focus, a quieter show.