I am supposed to wear glasses, because I can’t see. I am slightly sightless. Afflicted with a misshapen left eye and a far less right eye. In the early morning I can’t even see the clock or make out the moles on whatever’s lying on my dirty sheets. In the mid morning I can’t even see the middles of my view in the reflection of the rubbed away moist. I am supposed to wear my glasses all the time, but I don’t wear them, because I like the fuzziness and fadedness of what my eyes see when they aren’t on. When I put my glasses on, everyone become a little bit uglier, every thing becomes a little too vivid, every thing is a little too tangible. With my glasses I can see people from over fifty feet away. When I don’t wear my glasses faces looks a little bit better, because they don’t have wrinkles or zits, and the hair on the heads look a little better, because they don’t have dandruff or split ends. I don’t have to acknowledge that figure way over there or that thing I am trying to avoid, because I can’t see it anyway. I don’t need to see to go on, at least not up here. Glasses are dumb.