dernelira - the view from the window

View from the window/ (first person) from the eyes-the eyes are the window to the soul. What we see is a window into our consciousness. We live in a world of mirrors and photographs that dictate who we are and how we look, journaling our lives. However, no photo or mirror would have any meaning for us without our sight. Have you ever been photographed by a blind photographer? Probably not. Maybe his blindness took a different form, maybe we are all blind. We archive primarily digitally and consume our past along with the latest trends. We do not distinguish reality from fiction, we allow ourselves to be manipulated by something that is not real.
The threads from the roped ballerinas that sometimes appear on the floor of my room belong only to me. Once in a while they remind me, then my past does not seem like fiction or something artificial, because it is still present. We stop looking through the eyes. We can't remember everything, can we? I remember. Not everything. Only the most important. What no one took a picture of. I have the only record. The only record of what I went through and how many shoes I changed. How many times have I been left barefoot, without an identity, clueless. Each of us had one pair of shoes in our life that we did not want to take off. We would still be wearing them if they hadn't fallen apart. If someone else didn't rid us of them. Apparently it was for our own good. Apparently, they already had a leaky sole and needed to be replaced. We return to the hood, because we have to change our shoes, change our wings, these don't suit us anymore, or someone broke them. And we still look through the window as if we are just looking at how our footwear changes with our ambition. I want to be a big ballerina, not just a little ballerina. I already want to wear heels. The leather on my riding boots is all wrinkled from my tears - but don't take them away from me. I still haven't won the race I wanted in them.