Blog (2023)

The Palette of Victor's Mind

         In the hushed embrace of the nocturnal, where the ethereal glow of the moon whispered of untold possibilities, there resided a man named Victor. He found himself in the solitary embrace of a dimly lit room, where the ethereal dance of shadows played upon the walls. There, amidst the stillness, his thoughts swirled like a tempestuous sea, while a solitary piece of paper lay before him, waiting to be imbued with the weight of his words.

         "These words emerged from the depths of obscurity, yet the enigma of my existence pales in comparison to your profound blindness," he pondered.

         Victor, in the depths of his existence, had been stripped of his sight, a merciless turn of events that had robbed him of the vibrant tapestry of hues and forms that compose our world. But even though his eyes no longer functioned, his mind became a vast expanse where vibrant images effortlessly manifested themselves. In the depths of his consciousness, he harbored a vibrant tableau, a testament to the boundless expanse of one's imagination.

         With a profound inhalation, he commenced the act of writing, his digits gliding with elegance upon the expanse of the page. The words, like brushstrokes on a canvas, portrayed the image that he yearned for others to perceive with the same intensity as he did. The sensation of encounter that he possesses. Those sentences encapsulate the simultaneous torment and ecstasy that he encountered. He possessed an acute awareness of every single one.

         Victor was acutely aware of the vast expanse of humanity, each endowed with the precious ability to perceive the world through their physical eyes. And yet, he observed with a discerning eye, so many of them chose to confine themselves within the confines of a limited perspective. They observed, yet their perception remained incomplete. Even more disheartening, those individuals bestowed with the precious ability of visual perception yet confined to a mere pair of eyes find themselves bereft of the capacity to truly behold the existence they have traversed thus far. It was an exceedingly unfortunate occurrence.

         He persisted in his writing, the words cascading forth like a ceaseless river of sentiments. "You possess an absence of vision," he wrote, "a sentiment that permeates your every utterance. Yet, inevitably, you stumble, and in those moments of descent, I shall remain by your side, gathering the fragments of your wounded pride. I found myself enveloped in the palpable weight of your suffering, as if it were a delicate bird perched in the palm of my hand. I could sense their presence within the depths of my chest, a palpable sensation that resonated with an enigmatic intensity."

         "In the absence of my vision, I find myself endowed with an uncanny lucidity regarding the enigmatic tapestry of existence," Victor continued. He allowed the ink to flow freely onto the pristine canvas of paper before him. "If my vision had been taken from me, I would find myself incapable of writing these very words. Let the radiance of my obscurity serve as your beacon, leading you towards a realm concealed from your gaze."

         Victor's prose grew fervent, his words illuminating the abyss. "Within the confines of my dimly illuminated, enigmatic realm, I have solely been bestowed with the enigmatic gift of darkness. May those who have been bestowed with the delicate ability to perceive the world around them inadvertently find themselves entangled in the depths of the most infernal abyss. Yes, fixate your gaze upon me. I found myself in a state of perpetual darkness, devoid of any semblance of vision. What perplexes me is your inability to perceive it."

         As the last words left him, Victor felt a sense of calmness, as if a gentle breeze had swept through his very being. He had emptied the depths of his being onto the blank canvas of the page, and in doing so, he found solace and release. He returned to his slumber, surrendering to the embrace of the night, his weary heart now unburdened and liberated from the weight it had carried for an eternity.

         In the profound recesses of his slumber, he beheld an alternate realm wherein individuals possessed the ability to perceive authentically, not solely through their ocular faculties but through the depths of their souls and intellects. He fervently beseeched that the ethereal daybreak residing deep within his soul would bestow upon him yet another enigmatic reverie to divulge. Perhaps, in the realm of slumber, he pondered the imminent awakening that awaited him. Serenely nestled within the depths of his consciousness, he found solace in the profound understanding that his words possessed the extraordinary ability to rouse the dormant realms of imagination within others, even in the bleakest of hours.