Sometimes, I just stare at things in no particular. Like, I'll pick something near me and stare at it, but not only stare at it, but I stare at the edge of it, the boundary between it and the background.
It's like when my eyes cross, the line goes blurry, and I think that maybe that's how all of life is.
Undefined. Unabsolute. Uncertain.
You can never be sure which edge is the real one when they're all jumbled together, foggy and undetectable like they are.
And so I stare on, and I imagine what it would be like if all edges were blurry or disfigured. If the world would be a lot harder to digest, if life would be a different concept, if everything we knew would be more open and altered.
I think and I wonder, what if I was a blurred line, a flawed edge, what would happen to me then? What if I already am one? What if we're all blurred lines, flawed edges? What if none of us are for certain, just different views in people's eyes, changing with ever shift of the eyeball?
Then I think, maybe we all are, in a way.
