I was a beholder at that point in time, with my eyes open and the sea parting I could finally bare witness to her. I am uncertain about the particular situation now that I attempt to recall it. The texture of the sand on that beach so course and rough, the water- possibly murky, maybe signs of death or life at the newly opened ocean floor. All sort of blurred when she came into sight, I told myself that it could not have been but even her face now seems gone- as I attempt to recall the details I find myself met with a deep and searing pain that burns symbols into my mind. Two eyes, a nose, a pair of lips, locks of hair- symbolized and burned into the gray matter within my skull to the point where boiling blood leaked out my nose and smoke reeking of seered meat leapt from my ears… I understood slowly what should come to pass- but that woman I seen now daily with blurred face, obscurity seemed to warp my life and the consequences of’t now laid my scarred mind to waste. Obsession and obscurity tend not well to mix, chasing after blurred figures will inevitably lead to failure, this much I know- for when it comes into focus… The true sight, sound, taste… it all becomes one out of obscurity- it becomes real. But I suppose it is the unknown of those which make the appeal to my reason go flying out the window so swiftly.
The events of this began to consume me the next month or two, I recall distinctly times wherein I would crawl up muddy slopes in terrible storms simply to weep in the dark- blanketed by the obscurity it provided- I felt a sense of warmth there even as I wept, for I understood I took the place of an obscure figure when I did- and it seemed to be all I wished for myself. Obscurity, obsession- lacking that blurred posession, so often cold except in terrible rain which drenched me to the bone and made my eyes swollen and sore- . What was more distinct than this warmth among the cold was the mirror when I returned home… Something was off, something was wrong- my hair fell flatter on the sides of my head… I lifted my hair to find lumps of blurred flesh had replaced my ears- I did not make note of it at the time.. but their peculiar blurriness was so obviously a sign. I should have sought help at this moment but I did not…
I went on for a week with these flesh clumps obscuring my ears, it seemed that songs were sweeter, that men spoke softly, and women dull- without any sharpness in their tongues. It was so oddly comforting in that week, that warmness seemed to envelop me wherever I went… It did not then seem odd to me when the rest of my body began to follow, my mouth did a night when I tried drinking myself under the table. I passed out and awoke with tongue and lips blurred and melted as the ear holes on the side of my head had once done. I was punched hard by a man in black on a hill to the west- and though it felt broken my nose suddenly joined in bluring so that the richest of flavors soon became available through the melted combination my mouth and nose had to offer. It was at this point when all at once the figure in the mirror I was became so clear to me, only in obscurity, only in this obsession with the blur. I knew now when my senses had come to me that my eyes must go next- but how was I to do this. I walked to the sea in hopes the answer would come to me as the woman did that day which seemed now so long ago.
I began to walk, one foot afront the other toward and into the cold water the sea had to offer me- at first it felt so chilling as to impede my speed- so thick and filled with trash to make each step a slushing sloshing slog through thick mud like substance- but again- as with the blurred pieces my body was becoming- all at once the water gave way, it became easier to walk. As if taking a sunday stroll now my body began to sink heavy and walk the floor along the trenches it offered as if it was anything else… I could sense a pressure building up in my head, my eye sockets in particular, I tried to keep the lids closed- but the pressure soon became unbearable… the salted sea water cut at my corneas until my eyes were less than poorly peeled hard boiled eggs with the cuts they collected. Like a dogs chew toy, the marks pelted the orbs of my eyes till the flesh was sealed by some great force within me… I felt all a blur and my mind soon gave way to pure obscurity- I could feel my insides melding and morphing as I walked that floor- I sensed the greatest of creatures about me as distant lands soon became home.
A thousand eyes I felt gazing at me all at once, through the ocean- only to see a blurred figure. A thousand eyes seen lies that day which would haunt them and turn them on my path, to obsessive obscurity- to the depths of the ocean- where their comfort would be with other blurred souls who had become obsessive not for thee, but because of thy crisp and vivid life- what they were not or could not be now was suddenly the only desire. The blurred man wished for the blurred woman until he had her, and now only saught someone so vivid- but those vivid the blurred man called would only join him at the bottom of the ocean when it was them who had blurred themselves. The obsessive obscurity was a plague upon the people who now lived in that ocean, forever tasting all greatness in all senses they could not help but to imagine a life in which obscurity through great happiness was not striken them like a plgaue. They wished for turmoil in their paradise, but it would never come- for underneath those pressures only blurred creatures could survive.