I'm nearly blind. I can hardly see. But I'm taking some herbs. Something quacky.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
What the eyes perceive in herbs or stones or trees is not yet a remedy; the eyes see only the dross.
I'm blind without my glasses.
My eyes don't work, at least not fully, because they are blocked by disease. The scene around me appears through a kind of curtain, a haze.
Sometimes, I feel I am really blessed to be blind because I probably would not last a minute if I were able to see things.
On a spiritual level, it's as though with my sighted eye I see what's before me, and with my unsighted eye I see what's hidden. It's illuminated life more than darkened it.
I lose things. I am preoccupied. I am misty. Eyeglasses? I go through eyeglasses like tissue.
I can't see as well as I used to. Which is actually convenient because everything I see is in extremely soft focus! I think that's God's little gift to me.
I had some eyeglasses. I was walking down the street when suddenly the prescription ran out.
There is a condition worse than blindness, and that is, seeing something that isn't there.
My poor vision gives me a soft-focus morning. For the first half hour, I kind of wander through my house, and everything is a blur. I put my contacts in when I'm ready to deal with the world.
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