Oh, These Winter Blues.

Oh, How They Really Do Love Me.

Well…

…It, Honestly, Feels More Like They Really Hate Me.

Like, Really REALLY Hate Me…

…A Lot.

As I Told A Friend The Other Night…

…I Looked At My Eyes And I Said…

“I Look Tired.”

Not “Sleepy”…

…But “Tired.”

There IS A Difference.

A Difference I’m Sure Y’all Would Be Able To Distinguish Between.

I Also Told Him That My Eyes Have Seen Enough To Be Worth Four (4) More Pairs Of Them.

I’ve Seen Things With These Eyes That Would Stagger Some People.

I’ve Seen Things I’ll Never Be Able To Forget, No Matter How Hard I Try.

Exceptional Things.

Terrible Things.

Happy Things.

Horrid Things.

Some Of Which I Can Discuss, These Days.

Most Of Which I Could Never Discuss, Regardless Of The Day.

…

… … …

[[[---Right Now, Honestly, I Feel Like RUTGER HAUER At The End Of "BLADE RUNNER" When He's On The Building's Rooftop With HARRISON FORD.

"I've Seen Things You People Wouldn't Believe..."

Ya Know It?!

The One RUTGER Eventually Closes Out By Saying:

"...All Those Moments Will Be Lost In Time, Like Tears In Rain. Time To Die."

EXCEPT, I'm Not Dying.

AND, I Don't I Have A Bird To Play With And Fondle.

AND, I'm Not A Replicant.

BUT, Otherwise, I'm Totally RUTGER HAUER.---]]]

… … …

…

But, They Are Tired, My Peeps.

They’re So SO Tired.

And, The More They See, The More They Experience, The More Tired They Make The Rest Of Me.

The Eyes Are Very Powerful.

Windows Into The Soul, And What-Not.

Winter Days, Like The Past Few, Really Do Bring Out My Mopey, Down-Trodden Self.

While My Very First Memory Is Of A Smell…

…Most Of My Memories Are Of That Which I’ve Witnessed.

Of Which I’ve Seen, Up-Close, In Person, Nothing Edited.

Wonders.

Horrors.

Yes, I’ve Seen AND Remember So Much In-Between…

…But, Like Most People, The Wonders AND The Horrors Stand-Out The Most.

I Remember So Much That Does Make Me Happy.

But, It All Blurs Much Easier AND Faster Than I Could’ve/Would’ve/Should’ve Expected.

It Blurs Much Easier AND Faster Than The Horrors.

The Horrors Don‘t Blur.

If Anything, They Shine More So.

They‘re More Vivid These Days Than They‘ve Ever Been.

I Close My Eyes, I See Them.

I Open My Eyes, I See Them.

Damn You, Eyes, Why Did You Ever Look?

Why Did You Ever See?

Why Did You Burn These Images Into My Mind?

They’re There Forever, Now.

To Be Recalled Over And Over Again.

Recalled For The Rest Of My Life, However Long Or Short It May Be.

Damn These Tired, Tired Eyes.

Have They Betrayed Me?

Have They Failed Me?

No.

If Anything, They’ve Worked Tooooo Well.

They’ve Picked-Up Details Most People Would Never Even Consider.

But, Damn Them Anyway.

Damn Them.

When I Sat Down To Write This, I Sincerely Didn’t Know To What End I Was Writing Toward, Nor For.

Maybe I Still Don’t.

It’s Not Finished.

At Least, It Doesn’t Feel Finished.

Not. At. All.

Not. At. All. At. All.

So…

…What‘s The Cure For Tired Eyes?

And No, I Don’t Mean Plastic Surgery On Them To Make Them Appear More Life-Like.

In Fact, I Know Of No Surgery That Could Ever Reverse The Damage.

Well…

…One Could Always Get Lobotomized.