What We Carry
<p>A fellow medium writer and dear friend once asked me about my seeming surveillance of the state of others’ eyes. She posited reasonably, that it was somehow connected to my analytical nature and my having a brief military background; a hypothesis that was supported by her observance of my sometimes Centurion-like demeanor. The truth of my fascination with the eyes is however, very different. It is true that, I was once <strong>[for a short time]</strong> a soldier; but, it is also true that I was once a peace-loving, tree-hugging <strong>[literally]</strong>, live and let live, weed smoking hippie. I have long felt, since learning their significance in other cultures, that the eyes are the gateway to the soul; everything that we carry, can be seen through them.</p>
<p>So, what do we carry that is there in our eyes and written on our gaze for others to glimpse at, as they pass by or peer into them? Everything. Everything that we have ever seen, or done, or left undone. Everything said or left unsaid, and everything heard is there as well. These are the types of things that I carry, maybe it’s the same for you. At times, I do battle with melancholy as it sometimes slinks over me, casting itself over my minds eye in times of grief or disillusionment. At this moment, a warm Tanzanian Peaberry coffee and <strong><em>“25 or 6 to 4”</em></strong> <strong>by</strong> <strong>Chicago</strong> are aiding in repelling the swarms as they attempt to scale the battlement. My own strength and resolve, to live a better life and put my own well being at the forefront of my decisions, rather than committing slow suicide by alcoholism also drives the hoard of contemplative despair back from the walls of my heart and soul; it is my overt weapon.</p>
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