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Sunday, March 6, 2011


Damn near lost an eyeball.

Well, I thought. Sawdust scratched it. Didn't seem like a big deal, at first, but then it wouldn't stop watering. That night, it got worse. Got swollen, red. Felt like a grain of sand trapped under my eyelid. I couldn't sleep. It was worse when I closed my eyes.

Ever try to stop moving your eye?

So I made plans for a glass eye. Maybe get one a different color. All black, or yellow. What about laser beam red. Or maybe one like Daniel Day Lewis in Gangs of New York, the glass eye with the bald eagle. The one he taps with the tip of a knife.

Or maybe do an eye patch. Snake Plissken was badass in a patch. I'd just look like a douche.

Just thoughts. All these.

That's the thing. It's hard to separate from thoughts. Hard to just be here. Just be present. Why do we cling to them so desperately?

Reality, lost.

My eye was fine by lunch.

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