Hurm...
Amorphous spots
float over my eyes.
Your perceptions are
my only disguise.
Covered thick enough in ashes
to leave grey-areas behind,
black and white is my religion,
truth the salve for my mind.
---------
Is it the sting of grit on cornea
that teaches us to see?
---------
From the shadows, dark and light are crystal clear.
Standing in the sun, all else is unperceivable.
float over my eyes.
Your perceptions are
my only disguise.
Covered thick enough in ashes
to leave grey-areas behind,
black and white is my religion,
truth the salve for my mind.
---------
Is it the sting of grit on cornea
that teaches us to see?
---------
From the shadows, dark and light are crystal clear.
Standing in the sun, all else is unperceivable.
posted by TwistedNoggin at 8:29 PM
5 Comments:
I looked at the Rorschach blot.
I tried to pretend it looked like a spreading tree, shadows pooled beneath it, but it didn't.
It looked more like a dead cat I once found, the fat, glistening grubs writhing blindly, squirming over each other, frantically tunneling away from the light.
But even that is avoiding the real horror.
The horror is this: in the end, it is simply a picture of empty meaningless blackness.
We are alone.
There is nothing else.
-- Watchmen
Yup, and from his unique vantage - a life surrounded by filth, trauma, etc... he was the only one who really kept a clear view on things and stayed true to truth.
Perhaps one has to get their hands dirty with life to see things more clearly.
Just a thought, anyway.
seems like ages since I read that book.
Actually, that was dialogue from Dr. Malcolm Long, the psychiatrist.
See... it has been a while since I read that. That is on my list of books that I have previously read but want to own (along with Cookoo's nest, Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, any O S Card books I don't own, Dr Suess' one fish two fish red fish blue fish, and many others)
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