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August 12, 2003

I ball my fists and, with the webs between my thumb and index fingers, gingerly rub my closed eyes, like a child struggling vainly against curfew, enjoying the ensuing light show against the back of my lids and wresting any crust flecks from their flanked positions. My eyes are very sensitive (it is nearly impossible for me to use eye drops, and even the phrase "keep your eyes peeled" makes me shiver) but I enjoy the sensation of pressing against them while closed, feeling them squeezed backwards in forced retreat, testing their malleability, experiencing their lubricious slide within their sockets.