I wear glasses. That’s how you can tell I’m smart by the way, by the fact that I wear glasses. If you haven’t met me in person then you probably aren’t aware of how smart I am, not having had the change to see me in all my glasses-induced brilliance.
I wear glasses because my eyesight’s not all that good (and also so I will look smart). There were some years, though, after my eyes got bad but before I got glasses to make up for it, and I didn’t even know what I was missing. Then, glasses, and holy crap those trees’ve got leaves in detail and crud, are those individual fibers on that carpet down there? All of a sudden I could go walk around and see people with actual faces and eyes that weren’t just vague dark smudges (or buttons, but that doesn’t come up that often either way). Now I wear my glasses, and things are so much more crisp and defined, and it’s amazing what I can make out. At this point, you might think I’m marching toward a lesson on perspective or understanding or something. If that is the case, then clearly you missed the title of this post, which plainly states what my actual intention is. So I’ll just direct you to draw some lines and read between them.
Anyway, I take my glasses off, and these are still my same old eyes that blur shapes and fuzz (yep, I just verbed that noun) lines. So I never forget what it used to be like and how much better my glasses let me see. Bottom line, I don’t take my vision for granted, although I have no doubt I would without a second thought if it were up to snuff all on its own; it’s only because it falls short that I can really appreciate it as much as I should. Does that make sense?
I like that I need glasses, because this way I have a constant reminder of how amazing it is to be able to see.
So that’s my long drawn-out metaphor, which probably hasn’t turned out quite as clear as I wanted it to be. Or maybe the problem is just that you need glasses. Anyway, I’ma try and apply it now.
Something you take for granted: A body that fits with your mind.
Something I don’t have: A body that fits with my mind (but shh, don’t tell anyone; it’s a secret).
Hence: That is not something I take for granted. But it’s okay; I’m just me.
I think that’s going to be all for now, folks. My thoughts are getting tangled trying to beat each other out of my head, so I fear my point is somewhat muddled, but I’m not sure how to expound in such a way as to clarify. So we’ll just pretend that you’re supposed to take some personal application out of this and leave it at that.