Blinded By Something.

If she was blinded by faith
then you were blinded
by your all too clear
skepticism.
A snail to a slug, you said.
But like all colors in life,
this thing you speak of
lies upon a spectrum.
One in which you are
clear pale blue,
and I am
bright voracious red.

- - -

So this next week is going to be hell. And then things should wind down a bit. Finally. Why does life have to be so busy right now? All I want for the moment is to live and learn and turn eighteen on a day not crowded by other events. Life isn't so simple it seems.

Anyways, this poem was inspired by something a friend said to me. We were talking about an aqaintance, an extremely religious one, and my friend said to me, "It's sad to think that she's been blinded by her religion." This has stuck in my brain for quite some time now, and I always go back to it and wonder. Well, the other day I was--as I often do-- wondering about it again and another thought cropped up in my brain. I felt like my friend when she said this, and when she says other things, that she was blinded by something too. My friend is blinded by her own skepticism, her own clarity of thought.

And then I started thinking about what other things you could be blinded by. I'm most often blinded by cynicsim, or love, or passion, or fear. What blinds you? What makes you think one way or another, what most affects your thoughts towards politics, world events, local events, music, art, industry?

What are you influenced by?