As I was walking upstairs to my first class, everything was blurry, my eyes couldn’t focus, and for those seconds of going up the staircase, I wished that my world was like that forever.
I knew that when things became distinct, I wouldn’t feel relief for seeing them as they are. I would just come, once again, to the conclusion that the world, in all its shapes and forms, is not exciting.
When things were blurry, I had the faith that they would become clear, and that kept me going. Once I can see things, that hope fades away, and I just have to go on, knowing that this is it: there is nothing better than that. Those are the edges and the faces as they are.
I can’t wait to see the blurred lines again, to escape the crystal-clear world that can’t keep me going.
Que bonito.