Happy Halloween

If Eyes Could Crawl

Oh, the things they’d see. The things they’d do!

I had a recurring dream when I was a kid. Every night, I would dream the same thing: little insect arms and legs would peel open my eyelids from the inside and out! comes my eyes, crawling down my face.

You could see them for yourself if you’d like. Not mine, of course, but the eyes of some other. Of course, this “other” would have to have a particular interest in you, as their eyes only have a certain amount of time to spend outside of their host’s body.

As a child, I could recognize the eyes that follow me. They were almost a perfect match for my math teacher. The color, shape, age… all of its qualities matched his. They would stare, through the shower window, through my bedroom window, and especially when I was camping. I used to wear extra layers, as I could feel the eyes staring at my bare, exposed skin.

But when I was the eyes, all I wanted to do was stare. Not at myself, of course, but at others. Maintaining eye contact with others while awake still pains me as an adult. Sometimes, I wish my eyes would crawl out from their nesting spots in my skull and perch themselves just across the pretty woman sitting on the opposite end of the room. Maybe she would talk with them, rather than me? Or perhaps I could go just below the table, just as the teacher’s eyes would do to me as a child.

I did not get to see many people this past year. My friends from college have all moved away, and that damn COVID outbreak has all but ruined the lives of countless people. Did you know that COVID has been associated with acquired monocular blindness? The disease infects the eye cells, plaguing them to the point where they can no longer provide vision. The eye itself, dies (source).

When an eye dies, what happens then? Do you carry it around in your skull until someone is there to remove it? What if you live in an impoverished area where there is no one to provide treatment? I’d assume at that point you would only have one option.

I’ve tried to remove my eyes, of course. I started with a spoon, as I figured that scooping them out should do the trick. Yet whenever I feel the cool touch of the steel spoon against the uppermost portion of my eye, a small portion of me begins to fill with nostalgia. For what would I do without my eyes? Would you want to remove your own eyes? Of course not! What if they don’t want to leave?

My next grand idea was to use my fingers. I would simply press their tips against the outer perimeter of my eye socket until they wrap around the egg-shaped eyeball, and pop it out of its socket.

Until then, I will have to deal with the scratching inside my skull. If anyone has any recommendations on self eye-removal, share them below!

Cheers.