Black and white was my modus operandi;
Clothes, shoes, people, thoughts and religion.
But then my perceptions became distorted in pursuit of perfection;
Trying to avoid anxiety, depression and feelings of inadequacy.
I arranged myself: straight-jacketed, restricted, a life half lived.
My vision is clearer now, despite being doubled, optical nerves damaged and my peripheral limited;
Seeing things not as black or white, but as grey.
In this strange way, my vision has become more enhanced, freer, nuanced
Grey is not bleak but the platform,
Being present is better than being perfect.
