I'm blind. I've been blind since birth. They say that being blind enhances all your senses. Well, except sight. Possibly. I have a fair amount of senses. I assume that means sighted humans are less sensitive than I. I wonder what that's like. Poor bastards. Lucky bastards. Bastards.
I get all my money and food given to me. I know not all blind people do, but I'm not just blind. I'm also lazy. The two make for a winning combination, because when you have such a hideous deformation as to be blind, it's not hard to get other people to do everything for you. I money from the government, which my relatives use to buy me food and clothes. They tell me my clothes look nice, but I could be wearing a shirt that says, "I'm a Blind Freak, Stand Back." I'd never know. I haven't spent enough time with my family to determine if that's their kind of thing. I realized I'm not a thrilling guest at dinner parties fairly early on, so I stopped going.
So I hang around by myself a lot. My family recommended music to me as something to fill my time, seeing as I can't fully enjoy TV or books, but it wasn't my style. I've had some books read to me. They're okay. Of course, I'm not the type to go to the library and pick up books on tape and listen to them, and try and rewind everytime I miss something and so on. I miss a lot. I don't have access to a dictionary, for example. I don't have a clue what a barbituate is. Or an atlas. I'm not sure how France and Britain relate to one another. So only about 60% of the info offered to me really gets through.
My relatives, or the four who remember me, worry because they think I hate life. It's not so. They also worry because they think I talk to myself, but that's not exactly true. I talk to my body. What with all my extra senses, I figure I may as well engage in pleasant conversation with the various super-parts of my body.
The most interesting day of my life started ordinarily. As I lay still in my bed, possibly sleeping, possibly awake, my ears began complaining to me about a loud buzzing noise. "Hold on," I told my ears. I then instructed my hand to grope the nightable on my left in search of the alarm clock. My hand got right to work, and soon found the clock. "Turn it off!" I yelled, and my hand willingly obliged.
Why I set my alarm clock is beyond me. Something to do I suppose. I now told my hands to remove my sheets. I told my legs to get my body up. I instructed them in their march towards the kitchen. Of course, I live in a one-floor house, as stairs would kill me. My stomach informed me that it was hungry. My throat caught the spirit of whining and began mumbling about how dry it was. "Shut up," I informed my internal bits. I asked my hands to prepare us a lovely breakfast of toast and orange juice. My legs helped by moving my body and hands to the appropriate locations.
My body sat down. I allowed my hands, mouth and tongue to co-operate on a team project designed to end hunger and thirst. First they picked up the orange juice and downed it. My throat happily thanked them, and agreed to send down the toast to my stomach. Their little plan had worked! Within moments, my stomach was in stomach heaven.
Now I faced the difficult part of any day: Deciding what to do. I thought about using the telephone, but there was no-one who enjoyed talking to me, seeing as I never did anything and hence had nothing to say. I could go sit on the couch and think, but thinking for a long time always got my brain tired and depressed. I could spend the day in the shower, as I sometimes did. I could sing. It had all been done! All that ground was covered. I was bored as hell. I decided I would go outside.
I never went outside. The only time I ever went outside was when my relatives took me from my house to the car. I had had my hands open a window once, but the rest of my body had complaind that it was too cold. Perhaps it was winter or late at night at the time. Who can tell?
I said hello to my eyes. As usual, they ignored me. I was already dressed, of course. I only changed when I had showers, which was only every few days. I wasn't a slob or anything, there was simply no point. I had my legs take me to the front door of my house. I had my hands confirm that it was in fact the front door. It was, they happily informed me. I instructed them to turn the knob and pull inwards. I instructed my legs to compensate by moving my body back a step or two. It worked. My skin began complaining about how cold it was, but I told my skin to ignore it and pretend it was on a sunny beach. My skin didn't have a clue what a sunny beach was. It asked my memory. My memory sadly informed my skin that the expression "sunny beach" had come from someone else. It didn't have a clue what a sunny beach was like. But, my brain added, it was likely something quite nice. My memory and my skin agreed, and then the three sulked for a moment.
"Snap out of it," I yelled at my silly body parts. "Sorry," they mumbled.
"Now, legs," I said in a commanding tone, "take us forward. We're going to walk around the block." "I don't think we should do that," my legs said.
"Why the hell not?" I had my mouth shout. My cheeks blushed. They were shy.
"Okay..." said my legs, "we'll walk. Just don't shout." "Good then. Forward."
My legs grudgingly obliged. One slow step after another until we were really walking. I was relaxed. "Hello ears," I said.
"Oh hello," said my ears. "Not much to hear right now. Maybe it's night time." "No, you silly ears, we set our alarm clock for 8AM. I think."
"Oh well," said my ears.
We had now taken about 20 steps. I knew the road was about here and, having no desire to be run over, I turned 90 degrees. I wasn't sure if it was to my left or to my right. Oh well. My nose was confused by some new smells, and I consoled it.
My legs were nervous. "How are we going to get home? We'll never find the house again."
"Don't worry about it!" my memory said in that cocky tone it has. "I want to go home!"
I suddenly became very frustrated with my legs. They had no faith in me. I instructed my left leg to kick my right leg.
"Why should I?" my left leg asked. "If you don't," I said in a menacing tone, "I'll kill you."
"You're bluffing!" my left leg accused. It was right, unfortunately. I liked my left leg too much to kill it. Instead, I instructed my right leg to kick my left leg. It happily obliged.
"Ow," said my left leg. My mouth curved into a smile. "Hee hee," said my vocal chords.
"You bastard! I TRUSTED YOU!" my left leg yelled at my right leg. It was sad. "Okay guys, make up, let's go," I instructed. We had been standing still for a while.
Slowly my left leg raised and lowered. "Don't pout," I said.
"I'm not pouting, that was tough." "He's right," my right leg joined in. "We're in high gravity or something."
The rest of my body mocked my legs. "You're being ridiculous, legs," I said. "Forward!"
My left leg rised half way, and then I began to tumble. My knee connected with the cement and asked my vocal chords to yell "OW", which they did. My hands slid down into some mushy goo. "What the hell is going on?" I asked every part of my body at once. Everyone responded that they hadn't a clue. Except my eyes. We were still not on speaking terms.
I struggled to get up, but it was now impossible to move my distraught legs. My hands seemed heavy and thick as stones. I collapsed onto my side as my vocal chords called for help. I continued to struggle and was forced onto my front. My face was covered in the quick-hardening mush. "MORE AIR!!" my lungs began to yell over and over again.
"I'm sorry, none is available right now," I explained. "You're pulling some sort of practical joke. I'll get the oxygen myself!" said my lungs, as they commanded my mouth and nose to inhale deeply.
My face was powerless to refuse, and in poured mouthfuls of the tasteless guck. "THIS ISN'T AIR!!!" my lungs raged.
"Told ya so," I said. My brain began to yell at my lungs to send up more oxygen. My lungs feebly explained that my legs had gotten us trapped in some cement.
"We did?" my legs yelled angrily. "It was him!" "Yes," agreed the rest of my body, "GET HIM!!"
"Wait!" I yelled, now terrified. "None of this would've happened if my eyes worked." "Damn eyes!" my body yelled.
"Hello," said my eyes, and they flashed me an image of blackness. It was beautiful. My brain now became rather silly due to lack of oxygen. It no longer cared if my heart beated. My heart was tired, so it stopped. Blood stopped flowing through my body, and soon enough it began to harden.