Sightless Dreams

 Sightless Dreams

There was a short period of sightlessness in my life. I need to explain that mine was not the blindness of the brave souls who endure and exist with the blindness of the long-term or forever type. Mine was known and predictable, reparable, already scheduled for repair (interfered with by a medical procedure of another type), troublesome but not completely overwhelming

It was a little claustrophobic. I did not understand why my breathing was affected until I realized I felt boxed in.

I dreamed a lot. Aficionados of dream life would say that I simply recalled more of the dreams we always have, but the outcome was the same (we know the earth rotates around the sun, but we call what we see in the morning a sunrise) 

A lot of my dreams were about reading. I read pages from books and pages from websites. I am not sure from whence these pages emanate. Perhaps they were real pages from real books that, once seen, buried themselves deep in my subconscious just to be called up at such times, or perhaps I was writing them as I read. I know that the latter was true in some cases because the words would appear as I thought them. In that way, it was a delightful exercise. I was saddened afterward when I realized that I could remember almost none of the dream writings. That’s alright though, it was probably only gibberish.

I think that may be what happens with AI when it runs out of information to share.