... Time seems to just fly by nowadays. There's no certain stop, or pause. I'm never sure if it ever repeats, or rewinds. I just know that it... Goes. Day to night, night to day. It's simple, really... Kind of.

I see life differently than most. I don't really mean that in anyway bad whatsoever, but, compared to a lot of people, I don't look for individual things. I don't take a picture for everything I see. No. To me, everything stays together, all in one big canvas . It's an odd metaphor, especially for someone who doesn't paint, like I don't, but it's the only way I could really describe it after all these years.

A canvas. Filled in some places, but empty in the others; All of it being with one, single, color... The color being none... None that I knew of, or could possibly describe.

See... Though I do see life in an odd way, I also don't see it at all... From what my parents tell me, I have a unique, and bright, outlook of things through my clear, yet misty eyes... My name is Eugene, and, in case you haven't guessed yet, I'm blind.

I've been blind since I was born. It's often been called a 'disability' of mine... But I think of it as a bit of 'added initiative'. Initiative to... See things how they really are.

Hehe. Ironic, isn't it?

Back home though, a disability was just that. A disability.

I had my hand held throughout most of my life because of it. Not just the toddler ages, or my childhood, but even more than it should've been. I was taught to read in braille, learned to use a walking stick -- And that was fine. It was... But it just kept on. I felt limited.

Even after I had made it through college, despite the odds against me, and gotten a job that actually worked for someone like me, that I actually enjoyed, my parents and friends would still act as if I was taking my first steps.

I appreciated it, and it showed that they cared greatly about me; I'd always feel grateful for how they were so willing to keep me close. Nonetheless though, even I thought it was suffocating.

Like I had said, I don't think of my inability to see as a disability. I can do all kinds of things on my own; Crossing roads, reading whole books, working... It was all simple for me.

In a world where everything is a simple nothing, but something at the same time, one has a lot of time to think. And I know I had a lot.

In my thoughts, I imagine the people around me; Process their voices before I'd file it away under their names, if they were so kind as to give me it. I would listen to the often congested roads of my home, though I barely even knew too much about it, and often wish that I could focus on a more silent surrounding.

Another thing was... Just... I'd think of nothing. It sounds silly, I know, but a person only has so much to work with when all they have at all is their imagination. These moments, though, are pleasant.

How many can say that they've truly, and I mean truly, cleared their minds, without even the smallest voice or thought in the back of their head?

So, yeah... I don't really think of my blindness as a disability. To me, its a blessing. A canvas.

A place where I could think of everything, and nothing... So, imagine how odd it was to me when it was, essentially, given even more to think on than what I had grown up with.

Surprise is a part of life. Nobody can go completely without it. That's why it's there. That's why we feel it, and why we named it at all.

It tells us that we react, be it fast or slow, and that we all have different ways of doing so; A little glimpse into the minds and inner workings of another, just as one would get from sadness, happiness, or even anger.

Of all forms though, mine had admittedly taken me a little longer to get through.

I'm sure it would anyone else though, blind or otherwise.

I remember the day clearly; Almost visibly. The sun was shining through my window, the shutters having long been removed by a friend of mine as a favor I asked of him; I may not be able to see how nice the day looked, but I certainly enjoyed feeling it's warm and embracing presence. I went about my usual processes during the middle of the week, when I was on my day off from work, as my superior had so kindly given to me; Paid as well.

I made my way, with practiced grace, out of my bed; Carefully swinging my legs with long memorized movements and quickly sliding my feet into a pair of soft, comfortable slippers that I always placed in the same location next to my bed. I stretched my arms out and gave a quick yawn, the sun now hitting my bare back as I reached to my left, immediately being met with a long, slender friend of mine; There for me since three years after I had learned how to walk.

Grabbing hold of the wooden object, I lifted myself with relative ease, a small sense of reassurance coming to me as I took a step down from the slightly raised platform my bed was on -- My parents had insisted that I'd find a different house because of this feature, but I found it to be a small... Boost of confidence for me, everyday.

A small obstacle, to say that even a blind man can find his way... Heh... My friend had laughed at this, and I happily did the same. It was a little silly, wasn't it? I digress though.

My walking stick pointing my way for me, allowing me to create my own mental path, I made my way over to my closet, having recognized it by the small doorway, and the sudden feeling of several articles of clothing in my face. I let out a hearty laugh at the fact that I had gone too far, yet again, shaking my head at myself before raising my arm, and feeling my way through my clothing.

The only true way I recognized what was what, was by the material's texture, and the article's overall shape. Color did not matter to me, as I don't even know what that really is, so long as I felt comfortable in what I wore. My friends and family had helped me with finding clothes a while ago though.

Once, one of these friends had come to visit in a sort of housewarming, having only just found out about the purchase I had made. When he opened the closet, he chuckled, saying that I had a lot of 'whites and blacks' inside. I looked to him in confusion, and it only took him a moment before he realized his mistake, quickly sputtering out an apology. I simply shook my head with a smile on my face, telling him that it was no issue whatsoever.

That memory usually brought a smile to my face as, finally, I would pick out what I would like to wear that day, pulling them off by their hangars and promptly dressing myself. It took an average of, say, 20 minutes before I'd be done. It was a long process, which is why I'd usually have to wake up early for work, but it didn't bother me.

After dressing myself, I would once again rely on my walking stick to guide me, making my way to my house's bathroom. I'd brush my teeth, wash my face, and just plain use the bathroom before I would move on from then.

I had decided to skip breakfast that day. I wanted to get to my neighborhood's local park as soon as I could, and to beat out the later crowd.

As I opened the door to my house, I was quickly released from the controlled, artificial feel of my home's air ventilation system, and met by the fresh air of the outside. It was cool, and crisp, as was characteristic of the fall where I lived. One could easily hear the wind if they tried, singing its annual song, with an ensemble of birds and rustling leaves to back it. Nature was an orchestra on this day, and the wind was it's composer.

I took in a deep, relaxed breath through my nose, savoring the seasonal zest of it, before releasing it through my mouth, slowly and purposely. No matter what, I would always enjoy that feeling.

I smiled as made my way down my house's short walkway, only identifying that I had reached the sidewalk by the sudden roughness below the taps of my walking tool, before turning myself in my intended direction.

People would often worry as they saw a blind man like me make their way through the city, wondering if I'd get hurt, or lose my way. It wasn't really a problem though. I had an almost photographic-- Heh, wrong choice of words. A... Near perfect memory. I knew every twist and turn that I would take. It was like making a map in my head. An imaginary map, like the kind a child would believe a pirate to follow, searching for their buried treasure. Only, my 'loot', as it were, was just my home.

I made my way to the park in the most direct route that I knew of, often crossing roads with the assistance of a kind few, or by simply following a crowd I knew to be near me. I could hear the familiar voices of street vendors, peddling their goods among the many people of the city. Some had even greeted me, to which I responded just the same, and asked as to how I was.

I would always tell them I was well, and they would seem to perk up at this, if only slightly. I guess they just had soft spots for people like me.

Aside from their calls and greetings, I would hear the drones of traffic around me, along with the conversing of several people, and the occasional 'oh, excuse me' or 'pardon' that some people would give me as they moved out of my way, purely out of good gesture. A smile from me was all I could return to them for this, and I only hoped it was sufficient.

After a while more of walking, I eventually felt my cane come in contact with a metal gate, a smile coming to me at the sudden interruption. This was the gate that surrounded the park, ensuring the most peaceful and quiet nature of the large area.

I followed the gate all the way around, my walking stick clanging softly against the metal to work as a sort of guide. A man walked up to me after a short moment of doing this, softly placing his hand on my shoulder as he moved, to where I presumed to be, in front of me.

"Sir?" He asked, to which I responded curtly. "Would you like some help?" Normally, I would kindly turn this sort of offer down, aware that I could do this sort of thing myself. On this morning though, I did not want to go through the rather excessive process I went through as I entered my favorite area in the city, what with soon having to turn a corner, and all that. Smiling, I gave the man a smile, and a nod.

"Thank you. If you could help me to the entrance of the park, I would appreciate it." I told the man.

"Of course, sir." He responded in kind, slowly and carefully wrapping his arm around mine, before starting to guide me forward. I could hear the footsteps of people as they sidestepped the two of us, myself hoping that it wasn't too much of an inconvenience to them, or the man assisting me.

Finally though, the man released me, allowing me to guess that we had reached our destination. "There you go, sir. Anything else I could do to help?" He offered. I chuckled at his kindness, shaking my head.

"No, I can find my way from here. Though, if I could have your name, I'd at least like to more formally give you my gratitude." The man let out a chuckle of his own, the sound of his shirt sleeve shifting, along with what I guessed to be a hat on his head as he adjusted it.

"Officer Moore, sir." Oh, so it was a policeman who had helped me, I had thought to myself.

"Well, thank you very much, Officer Moore." I imagine that he nodded at this, before I then heard his footsteps as he walked away, likely to resume his post.

Taking in another breath of the air around me as I took a few, careful steps into the park. I now picked up several more scents interlaced with that of the fall. Freshly trimmed grass, with hints of dew adding a sort of pleasant 'clearness' to it. Hints of flowers that bloomed in the area, most often being near impossible to find elsewhere, due to the city's urban nature.

The sounds were different as well, with several fallen autumn leaves giving a resounding crunch as I stepped over them, and the tittering of the occasional squirrel, or panting of an owned dog, making yet another orchestra for me to have the honor of listening to.

The taps of my walking stick were reduced to near nothing as I walked on, both because I did not want to interrupt the 'performance' that surrounded me, and because I had long memorized this area to a tee.

So much so, that finding my favorite bench, sat beneath a large tree, it's shade providing a cooled contrast for me, had become more of an act as simple as breathing, than one of any sort of complexity.

I was quite satisfied with my seating, and, with a sigh, I gave into my thoughts, my surroundings and the sensations that accompanied acting as a beautiful backdrop for me as I did so. I would imagine a squirrel run just by my feet, stopping for a moment and surveying it's surroundings, it small eyes momentarily staying themselves upon me, before it would rush off to the nearest tree, or the like. Birds, in my mind, would fly over the relatively calm setting that I rested in, already beginning to fly south for the upcoming winter. Finally, I would tune out the few people here, completely losing myself in the zen that surrounded me.

I truthfully am not sure of how long I was there. Perhaps it was hours, or simply minutes, but eventually, I felt my stomach give a growl, the sudden feeling of being peckish quickly registering in my mind.

Reluctantly, I returned myself from my thoughts, standing and again making my way through the familiar path of the park...

This is where things changed, oddly enough. A change that, to this, I honestly think to have been for the better.

Though the details as to what occurred next are blurred for me, I am aware of falling backwards, having been pushed back -- accidentally, or purposely, I was not sure -- by a large, burly man. "Watch where you're going!" He had said, drawing a mental chuckle from me at the irony in his statement.

Next thing I knew though, as I picked up my walking stick, which had fallen next to me in the impact, I once again heard another voice aimed towards me, this time of a woman.

"Uh... Hey... Are you okay?" She asked, seemingly hesitant in doing so. I supposed that, in this regard, she had some reason to sound that way. After all, it was a rather... Awkward situation, assisting a man like me up. I could understand.

I gave the woman a nod, standing myself up once again with a silent grunt. As I did so though, I felt a sense of slight confusion go through me. The leaves that crunched beneath me were no longer there. I no longer heard the sounds of the park, or the whistling wind. And finally, the very scent of the air seemed... Off.

I shrugged it off though, deciding that this was simply a momentary happenstance, as would occur every now and then.

Looking to where I heard the woman to be, I gave her a smile, telling her that I was fine, and that she need not worry. She stood there though, as I could tell from not having heard her walk away, for another moment or two, drawing a raised brow from me as she did so.

"... Is... There something wrong, Ma'am?" I asked her. Her response was oddly worded, to say the least.

"W-what are you?" She asked, her voice relatively silenced, and low. I rose my brow even higher at this, at first not understanding what she meant. After a moment though, I just chuckled, thinking that she was meaning of my special trait.

"Oh, I'm blind, Ma'am." I told her. I honestly didn't mind being asked that question, as I had been so used to answering it, even in the way she had worded it. I saw no reason to find any sense of rudeness, or show irritation, at an honest question, so I tended not too.

This answer, though, apparently did not satisfy her, as the sound of her footsteps came as an awkward shuffle. "N-no. I mean, what are you?"

This was, as I liked to refer to it, the start of my new life. A life with new thoughts, and a new canvas. A canvas labeled 'Equestria'.

Author's Note

This is just going to be a short story I'm making. A little break from my other two focused stories, if only for a short moment. The time between chapters won't be long, but it'll be there.

Either way, I hope you enjoy.

(P.s. This story is inspired by a friend of mine who lived his life without sight, before dying in an untimely accident at home. Miss you buddy.)