Defamiliarisation (of a personal object)

The first that my hand seeks, drunk with sleep; and the last (though sometimes forgotten with regret/ mangled brutally/ twisted legs ) stripped of my objectivity: appearance; deconstruction? of the self/representative/applied image before unconscious desire of paralysis and process of illustration.
My mechanical eyes: my reliance on you frustrates me but when I refuse to acknowledge your fragile existence folly results in thwarted public transportation. Clarity is a suitable price to pay for vanity. I pawn vanity gladly; Clarity is definitely the more precious metal. I am baffled perplexed bemused mystified exasperated  that vanity causes vision to be an accessory to fashion? Strange bedfellows but apparently opposites attract. I would rather not pay to see further than the end of my arm clearly.
Still, I digress; I abhor the necessity of the indelible foreboding; the initial disappointment of impotent sight has been replaced by a morbid despondency of the likelihood of deterioration and disintegration: the possible inevitability or the inevitable possibility of darkness.

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