They say you shall see light at the end of the tunnel, as promisingly magical as this is, I am reluctant to believe this.
Don't get me wrong,
I would not prefer any other way for my crossing over to feel like but walking-under-a-tunnel-towards-glorious-lights-of-heaven-type of transitioning, but I am afraid that I never shall see that light. No, not that I have committed one or two of the deadly sins ,which I'm really careful not to .
It’s just that I never got to see any light in my life, and probably never will.
If I sound depressive, that is because I have all the reasons to be.
I was born in a world where everything seems to exist beautifully in colors and fine things can only be "seen"
but I had to be the unfortunately blind one
Someone once stupidly asked me when I was at a young age and innocent enough not to complain about my condition;
"What do you see? Is it dark or something?"
I had no idea how to respond.It startled me. I didn’t know what I see, and definitely I was oblivious of what I couldn't see.
I never found the right word to answer.
I couldn't say it was dark because I never knew what dark was.
If it was a question of something I experienced,
like if something is not hot then I could say it’s cold or luke warm.
“I just can’t see, that’s all about it.”
Since then, I understood that not all of the people would be sensitive enough to know that I can't describe what I can and can’t see. It’s my responsibility to adjust with their curiosity and ignorance, for my own sake, to keep myself away from humiliation.
I formulated a response that ends any follow up question;
I have been wise enough to coy that I am an expert of my condition.
"Pitch black."
I surprise them with my certainty.
Dark is when you don’t get to see the things that exist because of the absence of light.
I am in space where things can only be felt, smelled, tasted and heard.
If inside an aphotic space, a hint of light appears but it gets to be overwhelmed by the saturation of its absence then I began to know its called black.
Pitch is not the absence of light rather its the suppression of it.
I know that there is light I am just not capable of seeing it and
not even the brightest ray of sun can penetrate and can shed light on this curse.
So, when the message relay of the near death experience finally reached me. I wondered, is heaven really that beautiful; more beautiful than the sound of raindrops, comfort of warm blanket, the aroma of coffee and the taste of muffins.
Then probably, just probably, in heaven I don’t need eyes to see.
I felt a rare type of excitement about death.
I have hoped that finally I will see the rainbow which they say is a display of seven lights after a pour of the rain.
By then probably I will get to understand what it is, without people trying to describe something that even my remaining senses can't perceive and my mind will never comprehend.
Though my hopes are high, my fancy dream of heaven is still ambivalent.
One thing that bothers me more than the vague idea of its existence:
The possibility a pitch black heaven.
What if heaven will be as gloomy as my world?
I, who have seen everything in this world in just different feel of black.
When I get to be very happy when I had my first and only braille book of Beauty and the Beast. It was a delightful black.
When my best friend got hit by a car, and I was there to hear everything of him got crushed, it was like sheets of black wrapping my heart and stopping from beating.
It was a horrible black.
I, who have been continuously and positively living with the hopes that I shall not need this walking stick to avoiding hitting people or walls that have been always there waiting for my lips to be busted every single day, nor the help of someone to cross the road of raging motorists impatiently honking for me to hurry.
I hope that I will never get bruises just because I stupidly stumble over a half inch elevated pavement.
I live to be the best that I can for I cannot die and be judged just to be dumped to the pits of hell.
Dear God, in my mortal life I had enough of darkness and to spend my eternal life in another is inexplicably unfair and unfortunate.
I work hard to deserve my own salvation, and even harder to change the next life that I will have.
If "thy kingdom" will be what I fear it is then I would rather not reach the end of the proverbial tunnel and just stare at the only light that my eyes and soul will ever see.
I 'd stuck my soul in purgatory, if even in luck, that exists.
but if these eyes will be nothing but balls in my skull, then I have nothing to use them for but to wash this adversary with these cold droplets of tears. My only form of relief when laughing is not enough.
These tears, if these are as black as what I see every daily living, then people probably could sympathize how it feels to have a blinded present and a tenebrous future.
If heaven was black, then how is it different from the miserable life that I live now, is it just the promise of eternity?
All I want is an afterlife that rewards me not just divine light, but also the ability to discern it.
Don't get me wrong,
I would not prefer any other way for my crossing over to feel like but walking-under-a-tunnel-towards-glorious-lights-of-heaven-type of transitioning, but I am afraid that I never shall see that light. No, not that I have committed one or two of the deadly sins ,which I'm really careful not to .
It’s just that I never got to see any light in my life, and probably never will.
If I sound depressive, that is because I have all the reasons to be.
I was born in a world where everything seems to exist beautifully in colors and fine things can only be "seen"
but I had to be the unfortunately blind one
Someone once stupidly asked me when I was at a young age and innocent enough not to complain about my condition;
"What do you see? Is it dark or something?"
I had no idea how to respond.It startled me. I didn’t know what I see, and definitely I was oblivious of what I couldn't see.
I never found the right word to answer.
I couldn't say it was dark because I never knew what dark was.
If it was a question of something I experienced,
like if something is not hot then I could say it’s cold or luke warm.
“I just can’t see, that’s all about it.”
Since then, I understood that not all of the people would be sensitive enough to know that I can't describe what I can and can’t see. It’s my responsibility to adjust with their curiosity and ignorance, for my own sake, to keep myself away from humiliation.
I formulated a response that ends any follow up question;
I have been wise enough to coy that I am an expert of my condition.
"Pitch black."
I surprise them with my certainty.
Dark is when you don’t get to see the things that exist because of the absence of light.
I am in space where things can only be felt, smelled, tasted and heard.
If inside an aphotic space, a hint of light appears but it gets to be overwhelmed by the saturation of its absence then I began to know its called black.
Pitch is not the absence of light rather its the suppression of it.
I know that there is light I am just not capable of seeing it and
not even the brightest ray of sun can penetrate and can shed light on this curse.
So, when the message relay of the near death experience finally reached me. I wondered, is heaven really that beautiful; more beautiful than the sound of raindrops, comfort of warm blanket, the aroma of coffee and the taste of muffins.
Then probably, just probably, in heaven I don’t need eyes to see.
I felt a rare type of excitement about death.
I have hoped that finally I will see the rainbow which they say is a display of seven lights after a pour of the rain.
By then probably I will get to understand what it is, without people trying to describe something that even my remaining senses can't perceive and my mind will never comprehend.
Though my hopes are high, my fancy dream of heaven is still ambivalent.
One thing that bothers me more than the vague idea of its existence:
The possibility a pitch black heaven.
What if heaven will be as gloomy as my world?
I, who have seen everything in this world in just different feel of black.
When I get to be very happy when I had my first and only braille book of Beauty and the Beast. It was a delightful black.
When my best friend got hit by a car, and I was there to hear everything of him got crushed, it was like sheets of black wrapping my heart and stopping from beating.
It was a horrible black.
I, who have been continuously and positively living with the hopes that I shall not need this walking stick to avoiding hitting people or walls that have been always there waiting for my lips to be busted every single day, nor the help of someone to cross the road of raging motorists impatiently honking for me to hurry.
I hope that I will never get bruises just because I stupidly stumble over a half inch elevated pavement.
I live to be the best that I can for I cannot die and be judged just to be dumped to the pits of hell.
Dear God, in my mortal life I had enough of darkness and to spend my eternal life in another is inexplicably unfair and unfortunate.
I work hard to deserve my own salvation, and even harder to change the next life that I will have.
If "thy kingdom" will be what I fear it is then I would rather not reach the end of the proverbial tunnel and just stare at the only light that my eyes and soul will ever see.
I 'd stuck my soul in purgatory, if even in luck, that exists.
but if these eyes will be nothing but balls in my skull, then I have nothing to use them for but to wash this adversary with these cold droplets of tears. My only form of relief when laughing is not enough.
These tears, if these are as black as what I see every daily living, then people probably could sympathize how it feels to have a blinded present and a tenebrous future.
If heaven was black, then how is it different from the miserable life that I live now, is it just the promise of eternity?
All I want is an afterlife that rewards me not just divine light, but also the ability to discern it.