She was aware that the teacher was speaking, but didn’t really pay any attention. What would be the point since it was being taped anyways. Every single lecture that she went to was recorded. She hadn’t even ever seen any of these teachers.
Because she was blind of course.
She had been born that way and didn’t think she was missing out on anything. The way that everybody romanticized beauty, she didn’t really understand it. She wouldn’t ever, she supposed.
There was so much poetry to listen to on the subject; imagery that was completely lost on her obviously.
‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’; to her it didn’t really matter what the rose was called anyways because it smelled the same.
She hadn’t even seen her own face before. She had no knowledge of these ‘colors’; she navigated the world in the dark, in three dimensions built for a world that could see what they were in front of. She had a world of textures and sounds, not space and light.
So maybe she was a little jealous. But she knew that there wasn’t anything to be done. She would always exist in a separate world, a separate plane than the rest of her classmates.
She’d never even met another blind person before. She had nobody to relate to in that way, nobody at all. She had some superficial friends, but she felt like some people only spent time with her because they pitied her for something she that she never had in the first place.
They were always so helpful, so quick to try and assist.
Most of the time they would stop being interested and start to drift away. They somehow assumed that since her eyes didn’t work, her brain didn’t work either and she was dumb or something.
Of course they thought that.