My eyes went blurry. Perhaps from the grief, or perhaps for the pain, but I guess I’ll never know. Although most likely, now that I think of it, it was the snow that had just begun to fall. Odd that I never would have thought of that.After all those years, remembering and reliving, and once in a while something falls upon you. Some little tidbit of something. And it feels like you found another piece of yourself to grow into. Like a little piece of the puzzle that is the self you are struggling to find…
There was a place on Brunswick Street called Little Creatures. It was full of hipster furniture made from crates and twenty something guys who fashioned themselves like characters from the1840s – waistcoats, coiffed hair, bushy beards and enormous moustaches. On Thursday nights it was always so busy that the overflow of bodies spilled out on to the street. Georgia and I would go there to drink pints of lager until we were blurry enough and game enough to lean in so close that you couldn’t help but brush your lips together and then a little further to taste the lager in her mouth.
The ceiling was brightly lit, but there were faces above me. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here, but I tried to turn my head, tried to see more of the room, and suddenly realized that I couldn’t move. I couldn’t tell if I was being restrained or if my body simply was not responding to my commands, but I was certainly unable to move my head, and certainly at the mercy of these backlit people who were looking down at me with the bright ceiling behind them, hiding their faces.
With the enthusiasm of a late night wanderer, I make my way into the kitchen — blurry-eyed, but focussed on one thing: the last popsicle that waits in the freezer. But I am, blurry or not, too late again.
“My eyesight’s been blurrier lately,” mumbled Shay, taking off her glassed and vigorously rubbing her brow in exasperation. “The optometrist doesn’t know what to make of it. There’s no retinal detachment, no cataracts, no glaucoma, nothing. My eyes are beautifully healthy. But my vision’s worse.”
I reached across the table and squeezed Shay’s extended hand. “If you need anything,” I whispered to her, “tell me. Even if it’s a white cane.”
Sneering, Shay stretched out a free finger and jabbed me in the chin. “Bitch.”
My vision is blurry in the morning if I don’t eat breakfast, and my patterns have been off since our engagement ended. I sleep much later, and working from home only feeds into that pattern. I’ve been skipping meals to the point that my body doesn’t always remember that it’s hungry. I need more regular sleep, and to eat as soon as I wake up.
there was no place else to go. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my mouth. The world was awash in color and sound, but there was no light anywhere in my mind. Where to go? what to do? I waited for the feeling to pass, but it didnt. it couldn’t. I stood, dazed, waiting for something to free my mind.
Sure, her vision was blurry and her mouth felt like the wrong end of a dump truck but, hey, despite the pain wracking her limbs, she still seemed to be alive. Either that or she was in hell.
A slow raise of her head gave her a look through her hotel (when’d she check into a hotel?) window and out at the Phoenix skyline.
Eh, Phoenix, Hell; same difference.
I can’t see without my contacts or glasses. Without them, everything is blurry. I realized the other day, that I wouldn’t survive in a zombie apocalypse because I don’t have 20/20 vision.
My vision is going blurry, everything is spinning and I think I’m about to pass out. I might have drank too much, but what is too much when you are an alcoholic? One is too many and 1,000 is not enough. So I quit. now things look a little clearer.
I could barely see anything. It was hard to hear as well. Colors stormed what i could see: reds, blues, vibrant greens and yellows. I can’t remember anything that happened within the last two days. I try to get up and feel around the room.
My memory of you is glass-clear, not blurry at all. Tall. Muscular. Blonde hair in a topknot. Steady voice. The God of Thunder in real life. Got the strange feeling I’ll never see you again, and yet the weather forecast shows lightning bolts.
Sight obstructed like sand in my eyes
dance around the street at night
in a state of dreary schemes
light passages down alleys untold
awake but yet
I’m not really here
It was a fantastic line, it was a great moment, it should have been perfect.
But you didn’t smile. The look in your eyes–was that fear? Why are you afraid of me? I made sure that I wore my contacts today. There’s no way you could’ve seen my eyes. My weird two-colored eyes.
I tumble. My limbs are not my own. I belong to something much greater now. I am in the water. I am under the water. Tumbling. Rumbling. Rolling. Crashing. Feeling. But I can not see. This world is not my own. Effervescent bubbles and streams of floating starlight are things I will never see clearly. I am only a visitor.
The first thing thing the girl did when she got hold of some cash was to buy some one-day contact lenses. When she left Kenji’s place, she did so in such a hurried panic that she forgot her own lenses, and had spent the last three days in frantic, blurry confusion.
Now that she could see again, she could calm down enough to think through her situation. Who could she call? Who could she trust? It scared her to think how totally alone she was in the world now. But she had to keep moving.
Blurry is when you’re driving home in the middle of the storm and the whole world is fuzzing at the edges. The light from the streetlamps isn’t as crisp as you remembered them to be, and you can’t quite read the street signs. The stereo crackles, the rain interfering with the signal. You turn the music off and wish you were home.
Her vision begins to blur as the tears set in, making what seems to be a permanent veil over her normal vision. She knows what she’s done, and she knows that it was the right decision for the safety of herself and her family – but killing someone, even a serial killer, wasn’t free from consequences. She immediately launched into horrid guilt.
Scott always saw the lines between right and wrong as a blurry subject. This time it was no different. He knew Amanda was Austin’s girl, but they had a chemistry he just could not forget about. If he acted it would kill his relationship with Austin and it would tear his family apart. He was counting on Austins good and forgiving nature, but this time stealing his fiance MAY BE UNFORGIVEABLE, BUT he had to try before they were married . He had to know if they were meant to be.
ng a little blurry eyed here lying in my cold bed alone thinking of you. will you ever really be mine will we ever share a life together or was the timing just a little too off on our dance. Farewell
my love farewell.
My vision is so blurry but the sad thing is I never realized the increasing deterioration until it was almost too late. Little by little my eyesight was increasingly failing me. It wasn’t like I woke up blind one day. No it was like the slow method that is employed to cook a frog,by turning up the heat by unfeasibly small increments the frog will happily stay in the pot until the water boils and the frog cease to exist!
Longing crystallized large knowing like
Pine, and pine.
Rub my eyes all day and still I cannot see a damn thing.
You try to tell me we’re all really just human.
If I could think in English words I would be thinking, “holy shit it’s so fucking bright in here! And cold as fuck!” and “what is that? and that? and that?” and then finally a great big breath and then “holy fuck! I need to breathe? Like, all the time?” And then, “well, all these colors kaleidoscope in mandala perfection lavender and green glimmering, I suppose I’ll just suckle on these soft things and let the world be nothing but shapes and colors. I shall miss the darkness and not having to do a damn thing but grow in silence, but colors are a nice touch.”
how i feel about happiness. blurry around the edges. pain feels much sharper and more real and you are taken from one to the other in a pattern, a back and forth motion. you see with your eyes but not with your soul, so you feel like you are missing something
Rain streaks thew indowpain, making it blurry wiht heaven’s tears. I can’t see outside, and for that, I’m grateful, so I don’t have to look at the monsters faces any longer. Their cold silver eyes still shine though, visible in the fractured moonlight.
I looked back at what my life was. What had i Accomplished. So many things i wish i could have done but now time has run out. My life all seems meaningless now, it was just a blur. A blur of regrets and mistakes, of what ifs and maybes. It wasnt enough.
I looked back at what my life was. What had i Accomplished. So many things i wish i could have done but now time has run out. My life all seems meaningless now, it was just a blur
My glassy are often blurry and it annoys me a lot. I have to keep cleaning them, over and over again. Often pictures I take come out blurry because my camera doesn’t focus on the object I was to take a picture of properly. Blurry things are sometimes easy to understand but often really difficult to see.
The sky was blurry, like fogged up glass. I knew here was something beyond it, something out there, waiting. The clouds were too beautiful, too brilliant. They looked as though painted by delicate hands, crafted and created. Designed to hide something from us. Whatever it is, I’m going to find it.
The shapes of the bending trees looked like blurry shadows in the foggy window. It’s been raining for all of 45 minutes and the roof has already sprung a leak. All these expectations for the day are somewhere spinning in the gutter.
My eyes went blurry. Perhaps from the grief, or perhaps for the pain, but I guess I’ll never know. Although most likely, now that I think of it, it was the snow that had just begun to fall. Odd that I never would have thought of that.After all those years, remembering and reliving, and once in a while something falls upon you. Some little tidbit of something. And it feels like you found another piece of yourself to grow into. Like a little piece of the puzzle that is the self you are struggling to find…
all i can remember
is the warmth of your arms
and the musky scent of pine
in your patient embrace
your heart was always blurry to me
and i wonder
if the cold wouldn’t bite so hard
if i had never rested in your arms
There was a place on Brunswick Street called Little Creatures. It was full of hipster furniture made from crates and twenty something guys who fashioned themselves like characters from the1840s – waistcoats, coiffed hair, bushy beards and enormous moustaches. On Thursday nights it was always so busy that the overflow of bodies spilled out on to the street. Georgia and I would go there to drink pints of lager until we were blurry enough and game enough to lean in so close that you couldn’t help but brush your lips together and then a little further to taste the lager in her mouth.
The ceiling was brightly lit, but there were faces above me. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here, but I tried to turn my head, tried to see more of the room, and suddenly realized that I couldn’t move. I couldn’t tell if I was being restrained or if my body simply was not responding to my commands, but I was certainly unable to move my head, and certainly at the mercy of these backlit people who were looking down at me with the bright ceiling behind them, hiding their faces.
With the enthusiasm of a late night wanderer, I make my way into the kitchen — blurry-eyed, but focussed on one thing: the last popsicle that waits in the freezer. But I am, blurry or not, too late again.
“My eyesight’s been blurrier lately,” mumbled Shay, taking off her glassed and vigorously rubbing her brow in exasperation. “The optometrist doesn’t know what to make of it. There’s no retinal detachment, no cataracts, no glaucoma, nothing. My eyes are beautifully healthy. But my vision’s worse.”
I reached across the table and squeezed Shay’s extended hand. “If you need anything,” I whispered to her, “tell me. Even if it’s a white cane.”
Sneering, Shay stretched out a free finger and jabbed me in the chin. “Bitch.”
My vision is blurry in the morning if I don’t eat breakfast, and my patterns have been off since our engagement ended. I sleep much later, and working from home only feeds into that pattern. I’ve been skipping meals to the point that my body doesn’t always remember that it’s hungry. I need more regular sleep, and to eat as soon as I wake up.
there was no place else to go. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my mouth. The world was awash in color and sound, but there was no light anywhere in my mind. Where to go? what to do? I waited for the feeling to pass, but it didnt. it couldn’t. I stood, dazed, waiting for something to free my mind.
When I awoke everything was blurred. I couldn’t tell where I was or why I was there. It must have been alex hes always causing trouble.
Sure, her vision was blurry and her mouth felt like the wrong end of a dump truck but, hey, despite the pain wracking her limbs, she still seemed to be alive. Either that or she was in hell.
A slow raise of her head gave her a look through her hotel (when’d she check into a hotel?) window and out at the Phoenix skyline.
Eh, Phoenix, Hell; same difference.
I can’t see without my contacts or glasses. Without them, everything is blurry. I realized the other day, that I wouldn’t survive in a zombie apocalypse because I don’t have 20/20 vision.
My vision is going blurry, everything is spinning and I think I’m about to pass out. I might have drank too much, but what is too much when you are an alcoholic? One is too many and 1,000 is not enough. So I quit. now things look a little clearer.
off white blur gegefu blank faasoloakoa le iloa se mea gigiva le fai auai tint le vaai blurry black out
She woke and her vision was blurry, she refocused and looked again, and he was standing before her smiling down at her. He was finally here.
I could barely see anything. It was hard to hear as well. Colors stormed what i could see: reds, blues, vibrant greens and yellows. I can’t remember anything that happened within the last two days. I try to get up and feel around the room.
My memory of you is glass-clear, not blurry at all. Tall. Muscular. Blonde hair in a topknot. Steady voice. The God of Thunder in real life. Got the strange feeling I’ll never see you again, and yet the weather forecast shows lightning bolts.
Sight obstructed like sand in my eyes
dance around the street at night
in a state of dreary schemes
light passages down alleys untold
awake but yet
I’m not really here
It’s getting blurry.
How did this turn into such a mess?
I don’t get it.
It was a fantastic line, it was a great moment, it should have been perfect.
But you didn’t smile. The look in your eyes–was that fear? Why are you afraid of me? I made sure that I wore my contacts today. There’s no way you could’ve seen my eyes. My weird two-colored eyes.
There’s no way you could have known.
But you did.
I loved you–is that why it hurts right now?
I tumble. My limbs are not my own. I belong to something much greater now. I am in the water. I am under the water. Tumbling. Rumbling. Rolling. Crashing. Feeling. But I can not see. This world is not my own. Effervescent bubbles and streams of floating starlight are things I will never see clearly. I am only a visitor.
The first thing thing the girl did when she got hold of some cash was to buy some one-day contact lenses. When she left Kenji’s place, she did so in such a hurried panic that she forgot her own lenses, and had spent the last three days in frantic, blurry confusion.
Now that she could see again, she could calm down enough to think through her situation. Who could she call? Who could she trust? It scared her to think how totally alone she was in the world now. But she had to keep moving.
Blurry is when you’re driving home in the middle of the storm and the whole world is fuzzing at the edges. The light from the streetlamps isn’t as crisp as you remembered them to be, and you can’t quite read the street signs. The stereo crackles, the rain interfering with the signal. You turn the music off and wish you were home.
Her vision begins to blur as the tears set in, making what seems to be a permanent veil over her normal vision. She knows what she’s done, and she knows that it was the right decision for the safety of herself and her family – but killing someone, even a serial killer, wasn’t free from consequences. She immediately launched into horrid guilt.
Blurry, this is what I feel after I have drink that alcohol. Well It’s also describe what I saw when I was anxious.
Scott always saw the lines between right and wrong as a blurry subject. This time it was no different. He knew Amanda was Austin’s girl, but they had a chemistry he just could not forget about. If he acted it would kill his relationship with Austin and it would tear his family apart. He was counting on Austins good and forgiving nature, but this time stealing his fiance MAY BE UNFORGIVEABLE, BUT he had to try before they were married . He had to know if they were meant to be.
ng a little blurry eyed here lying in my cold bed alone thinking of you. will you ever really be mine will we ever share a life together or was the timing just a little too off on our dance. Farewell
my love farewell.
My vision is so blurry but the sad thing is I never realized the increasing deterioration until it was almost too late. Little by little my eyesight was increasingly failing me. It wasn’t like I woke up blind one day. No it was like the slow method that is employed to cook a frog,by turning up the heat by unfeasibly small increments the frog will happily stay in the pot until the water boils and the frog cease to exist!
Longing crystallized large knowing like
Pine, and pine.
Rub my eyes all day and still I cannot see a damn thing.
You try to tell me we’re all really just human.
If I could think in English words I would be thinking, “holy shit it’s so fucking bright in here! And cold as fuck!” and “what is that? and that? and that?” and then finally a great big breath and then “holy fuck! I need to breathe? Like, all the time?” And then, “well, all these colors kaleidoscope in mandala perfection lavender and green glimmering, I suppose I’ll just suckle on these soft things and let the world be nothing but shapes and colors. I shall miss the darkness and not having to do a damn thing but grow in silence, but colors are a nice touch.”
how i feel about happiness. blurry around the edges. pain feels much sharper and more real and you are taken from one to the other in a pattern, a back and forth motion. you see with your eyes but not with your soul, so you feel like you are missing something
in many ways
life can be as if walking through a haze
a confusing fog
or delirious daze
but now it seems so clear
ive seen the pebbles through the pond
there is only to simplify
to harmonize
to then see what was hiding right under your eyes
I tried to stare at him, but he remained a blurry mess of colors behind my tears, trying not to fall. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it.
Man I just woke up and I
Don’t feel like talking
The sleep in my eyes came from my brain I’m
Sure you can tell last night was hell
Leave
Me
Alone
Rain streaks thew indowpain, making it blurry wiht heaven’s tears. I can’t see outside, and for that, I’m grateful, so I don’t have to look at the monsters faces any longer. Their cold silver eyes still shine though, visible in the fractured moonlight.
I looked back at what my life was. What had i Accomplished. So many things i wish i could have done but now time has run out. My life all seems meaningless now, it was just a blur. A blur of regrets and mistakes, of what ifs and maybes. It wasnt enough.
I looked back at what my life was. What had i Accomplished. So many things i wish i could have done but now time has run out. My life all seems meaningless now, it was just a blur
I see blurry whenever I try to see a distant object after removing my spectacles. It’s not that fun as it sounds.
My glassy are often blurry and it annoys me a lot. I have to keep cleaning them, over and over again. Often pictures I take come out blurry because my camera doesn’t focus on the object I was to take a picture of properly. Blurry things are sometimes easy to understand but often really difficult to see.
reading glasses
blizzard
obstructed view
motorcycle riding without goggles
too much drinking
rhymes with furry
The sky was blurry, like fogged up glass. I knew here was something beyond it, something out there, waiting. The clouds were too beautiful, too brilliant. They looked as though painted by delicate hands, crafted and created. Designed to hide something from us. Whatever it is, I’m going to find it.
The shapes of the bending trees looked like blurry shadows in the foggy window. It’s been raining for all of 45 minutes and the roof has already sprung a leak. All these expectations for the day are somewhere spinning in the gutter.