I’ve realized recently that I rely on my sense of sight too much.

I’m so fascinated by the image in front of me that I don’t notice my posture is craning my neck,

and I don’t feel how my body is knotting up from spending all day analyzing the feedback from my eyes,

and I don’t feel the emptiness in my stomach and the headache from my hunger,

and I couldn’t sense how my spirit was dead and dry because my fixation was futile,

and it all didn’t even occur to me until I felt every sensation hit me in one go.

Broken Glass

Honesty