Sight
Sight — You can only see out of one side of your head. Even at its best, human vision is narrow, partial, hemmed in by bone and nerve and angle. We walk through the world with blind spots we rarely notice, stitching together a sense of wholeness from fragments. The eyes give us a convincing illusion of completeness, but it is just that—an illusion. We see enough to function, not enough to know. Physically, sight is astonishingly limited. We perceive only a thin slice of the electromagnetic spectrum. Vast realities—infrared warmth, ultraviolet patterns, radio waves carrying entire civilizations of information—pass through us unnoticed. Even within what we can see, the brain edits aggressively. It fills gaps, smooths motion, stabilizes the world so it doesn’t blur and shake as our eyes dart constantly. What we call “seeing” is already interpretation, already story. And yet we speak of sight as if it were truth itself. I see what you mean. Now I see. Blind to the obvious. Vision becomes o...