When the colors came back.

Very late last night—after 11 PM—something changed.

All day long, the outside world had been bright. The sun was shining, people were moving, and everything looked alive. But inside, where my own vision lives, everything stayed dark. Heavy. Still.

Then, just when the world got quiet… the light came back.

A soft, bright yellow started glowing in the dark, and the floaters came in gently. Not rushing, not flashing—just moving easily, like they belonged there. I laid there wondering, why now? Why did it wait all day, only to return at night, just when everything around me was still?

But it didn’t stop there.

The brightness stayed with me into this morning, while I had some sweet quiet time with my stepdad—talking and listening to music together. And it stayed while I spent time talking with my friends, too. Even now, as I write this, it’s still here with me.

I don’t always understand why it comes and goes. But when it returns, it’s like a gift—reminding me that even in the dark, there is always light waiting to break through.

The yellow is still with me.

It started late last night, glowing gently in the darkness—and by this morning, it had only gotten brighter. And now, it’s shining even more, minute by minute, like it’s wrapping me in something soft and warm.

I just finished listening to an episode of I Love Lucy on Pluto TV, and I almost fell asleep for a little bit… but even then, the bright yellow never left me. It was still there, glowing in the background, keeping me company while sleep tried to creep in.

I love this feeling. I feel great today.

Even though I didn’t fully drift off, I was surrounded by peace—and that light inside me just kept glowing.

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What I'm still seeing With Out eyes, part 2.

Chapter 4 Last night, the reddish-orange light was so bright, so intense, it filled everything. I couldn’t even tell when I’d closed my eyes—the usual dark reddish-brown I expect was nowhere to be found. It was just light, bold and burning, like a fire behind my eyelids. By morning, the world inside me had settled. The brightness faded back into its usual heavy grey, with slow-floating yellow shapes drifting through the fog. And now, as I sit quietly, the darker reddish-brown edges have returned—faint but grounding—like the calm after a storm. Right now, I see yellow floaters swimming lazily through that grey space, with a soft peach tint in the background. It’s quiet, gentle, almost dreamlike. People ask me, “What are you up to?” It’s a casual question. A way to check in. And I answer casually too—“Oh, just chilling. Writing on my disability page. Sipping some coffee.” It’s true, but it’s not the full truth. What I don’t say is that while I sip that coffee, I’m watching y...
Read more

A brighter Pinkish Purple.

Image
It’s now a brighter pinkish purple—so bright, I can almost feel a bit of heat coming from it, like sunshine is beaming straight into my eyes. But there is no sunshine. There’s no light in the room. There’s no glow in the sky. There are no eyes on my face. That’s right—I’m totally blind. And yet, here it is. A radiant, glowing pinkish purple filling my inner world. It’s not just a color—it’s an experience. It shines from inside, with a reddish hue gently edging its way back into view. It’s soft, yet strong. Beautiful, and somehow alive. No one else can see this color—but to me, it’s so real I can feel it. Some people say blindness is darkness. But today, it’s pinkish purple. And it’s glorious.   Brilliant hot pink, Morning Coffee, and Yellow floaters. It’s late in the day, but I’ve been up on and off—lingering in bed, eating a late breakfast, and listening to The Right Time by Danielle Steel. And all the while, one thing has stayed with me: a brilliant, almost overwhelming...
Read more

Why Should I Have To Serve in Jewry Duty When I Can't See?

Lately, I’ve been getting so frustrated. The court keeps sending me letters, pushing me to serve jury duty—even though I’ve already submitted a doctor’s letter saying that I am totally blind, hearing impaired, and on disability. My doctor even wrote that I’m unable to participate due to my medical condition. But apparently, that’s not enough. She didn’t go into every single detail. Why? Because she legally can’t—HIPAA protects my private medical information. And now the court is rejecting her letter because it doesn’t spell out every little thing, like I owe them some full-body explanation to be believed. Let me be clear: I am totally blind. I have no eyes. I also live with hearing loss. I rely on sound cues, memory, my hands, my other senses—every day. And it’s exhausting sometimes, even in familiar places. Now imagine being called into a courtroom, where everything depends on seeing: Who stood up to speak? What kind of gesture did they just make? Who are they pointing ...
Read more