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Ceiling Visions
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I woke up this morning, at like 3AM, to voices that won’t stop. The voices say, you need to buy a house, you need to get a better job, you need to be more empathetic, you need to be a better vision of yourself, you need, you need, you need.
But then needs and wants are two different things.
I don’t want to buy a house; they’ve become out of range.
I don’t want to get a better job; I don’t know what kind of a job I can hold now.
I don’t want to be more empathetic. I am pretty darned empathetic already but I guess there’s always room for improvement.
I don’t want to be a better vision of myself; I’m already blind so there’s that.
I don’t want to be…..

I lie in bed and imagine what the ceiling looks like. I can smell my wife sleeping next to me and I can feel her warmth. I’m both cold and warm and can’t decide wether to throw off the blankets or if I should pull them back up. I’m naked and although that bothered me when I had eyesight I really don’t care anymore. I’m hungry but I’m not. I’m thirsty, so I paw my way over to the night stand to find the glass of water my wife left for me last night. I sit up and take a sip but don’t want to drink too much as I might need to go to the bathroom before my wife wakes up. I don’t want to wake her up; the last few weeks have been hard on her. I fumble to set the glass back down and manage to find a safe resting place for it. I lie back on my pillow and imagine the ceiling again.

Again come the voices.

You need to figure out what to do today, you need to learn brail, you need to sell your car, you need to sell your motorcycle, you need to get rid of things, you need to find a new place to live without stairs.

I want the voices to stop.

So I lie here and wait. I don’t know what I’m waiting for but that’s what it seems like I’m doing. I’m hot again and throw back the covers and my wife takes the opportunity to pull them her way so now I’ve lost them. That’s okay for now. All of these needs make me sweat anyway.

I think it’s 3AM but I don’t really know. I can tell that it’s dark, I’ve still got that much vision, but time? I haven’t a clue.

I wonder what the point is to continue. My life is irrevocably altered. So I lie here and wait for an answer and those voices aren’t helping one bit. Maybe they will change their mind soon and say something I can really chew on.

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