nice

sometimes, it's nice to be blind. you can imagine what you are seeing to be what you want it to be, and yet not see what is really there, so you are not hurt by it. not yet, at least. use that as a metaphore for my current life.
sadly, i know at some point my eyes are going to open, and I just know that what I see will be something i did not expect, something far from my wild imagination. which sucks. I can only wish that when I decide to open my eyes, or when they're torn open, that what i see isn't ALL that horrible.
its a shame, too, to choose between bitter truth, however unknown it is, and certain sweet lies. comfort or certainty? which is which? right now, I am not blind wholly, but I can't see. I'm in a fog instead, and I am feeling emotions and mental responses from both sides of the drawn line. but I still can't seem to figure out which side of the line I'm on. I can't even find it