The nurse came by today to look at my eye sockets. See how they're healing up. The glass inside is still foreign to me, the alien pressure still itchy inside my head. Swords probably knows what I'm talking about. I wish I didn't need to have them in, but I'd rather the sockets don't collapse.
The burns are healing well. My parents are looking into donors, but I doubt it will come of anything. I'm fairly certain even if by some miracle I received intact, working eyes, the Lovers would take them again. At any rate, it's looking like I'll make as much of a recovery as I can given the circumstances.
It goes without saying, but I really miss being able to see. The only time I do anymore is in my dreams, where I'm speaking to a one-eyed goth cowgirl in some sort of train station. I wish I could type these up myself, without relying on my Page (that's Penny-speak for little sister). I hope she's typing what I want. She's loyal but she can be, well, a little sister at times.
I hope Swords is alright. This might sound strange for you to hear, especially you, but I do. I think we could have been friends in another world, another time. Now I'm not sure what we are. I know that antagonizing her keeps my Page safe. In the end that's all that matters.
Speaking of cards:
The Lovers is moving into conflict with The Devil, with The Queen of Swords caught in the middle. Be careful.
I think I'm backsliding a bit. Oh well. It was nice being sane while it lasted.