A Blind Heart

One day a heart woke up and knew that it was blind. It was a strong heart, and disposed to solving problems. It worked hard, and eventually grew a pair of eyes. Then one day it woke up and knew it could not breathe. Again, harder now, it grew a pair of lungs. Then one day it woke up and knew it could not walk, redoubled its labors, and added legs. In turn it awoke to realize it could not hold, smell, taste, or defecate and with increasing effort solved the challenges ahead of it. And then one day the heart woke up, and died, exhausted.

One day a heart woke up and knew that it was blind. It was a smart heart, and disposed to cleverness. What did a heart need sight for — the eyes would do that. It could not breathe, and yet the air showed up. It could not walk, and yet it moved without injury. It could not defecate, and yet the waste vanished. All its needs were seen to. So it beat ten fewer times that day. Still the air came. Then one day it woke up and beat a hundred fewer times. Still the body moved. Then one day it woke up and beat a thousand fewer times. Still the arms touched, the nose smelt, the tongue tasted and the waste left. So it continued. And then one day the heart woke up, and died, alone.

One day a heart woke up and knew that it was blind.  It was a heart, and disposed to beating. It beat in thanks to the eyes. It could not breathe, and it beat in thanks to the lungs. It could not walk, hold, smell or taste and it beat in thanks to the legs, arms, nose and mouth. In turn, it even thanked the ass. And then one day the heart woke up, and thumped, in joy.

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