Monday, February 07, 2005

Every day is a dead day!

The concept of the New Year's celebration continued to be on my mind as my photographs returned, and I could further reflect on the happenings of that evening. It was truly one of the "dead days", one of rebellion and deconstructing the norm. The mascarade ball I attened in New Orleans was about becoming someone you were not, and celebrating the death and end of the year past. I realized that every single day, I repeat this celebration of ending as the sun has set and I prepare to move on to tomorrow. I cast off the harsh restraits of the day; my overloaded backpack, the restricting bindings we know as shoes and socks, and finally, the greatest removal of all... my contacts. True they give me the amazing gift of sight, and trust me, I need them badly. But somehow as I don my nerdy specticles, I feel wild, rebellious even. The greatest moment follows, as I crawl into bed, and toss away the last remenent of structure, formality, and the order of my day. And I am blind, and free... basking in the joy that is my natural blindness I bury the faults of the day, the hardships and even the victories into the blackness of night and my feather comforter. It is dead to me! It is gone! With a little smile on my face, I say my final goodbyes to what was and sink into the beautiful oblivion of night

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