I have known for a decade or more.
Grandma had severe retinitis pigmentosa. She’d walk around the house with a flashlight.
I was struggling to see in dimly lit rooms by the age of nineteen. My peripheral vision began to dissipate in my twenties.
Kala’s got it too.
It was June 17, 2025, at around 9:00 AM, when I walked around Union Park marveling in horror at how I couldn’t see anything but what’s directly in front of me. Color was there but no*thing* there.
On June 20th, 2025, I confirmed that I have tunnel vision and retinitis pigmentosa. I am seeing a specialist on August 5th. The doctor said I didn’t have to pay.
My dad used to say he’s “a magnet for shit”. According to my best friend, “you catch an unusual amount of it”.
How much is too much? How do you know?
Logically, that’s something only everyone else can know.
But we Know nonetheless. In the legs.
How many hominids started how many fires before finally protecting one?
You see too much when you allow too much. You allow too much because you’re open to too much. Each time, a bit of vision taken, stolen, given. As punishment. As thanks. As graffiti.
Why have eyes if they discriminate nothing?
I have been through much because I welcomed much. I am credulous. Witness. Innocent. Insistent.
I need to invent the hearth. I need walls and shades. I need tattoo removal and deleteme.com.
How long does it take concrete to set?