A congenital and undetected „visual defect“. A corneal curvature. Now glasses. Now, I was told, I had 130% visual acuity. One-hundred-and-thirty percent! – Wow!!! The world can be seen so razor sharp!?!? So… sharp! I almost want to exclaim. So contoured, 3D and…. separated in all details. A rush of details! Maybe I should also go to the ear doctor. Who knows what else can be heard! Or smell!
I get to thinking and ask myself: What would I not(!) have done, if I had always seen the world so unraveled? So in details, of which every single one wants to be looked at, evaluated and considered and screams its undeniable claim to truth and existence shrilly and cuttingly into the face of the observer?
Maybe I wouldn’t have done any of that. Caught up in the details. In fearful excessive demand. In the feeling of smallness with regard to all the uncertainty that spreads out before my eye in a way that is not manageable. With such a sharp eye, there is no room in the stream of detailed information of this world for the perception of what lies hidden behind these razor-sharp contours.
When I really want to see something. When I really want to see something, I take off my glasses.
But with glasses, strangers are friendlier to me. It’s amazing. Maybe I always looked a little funny out of the laundry before.