Dear the Clarity Behind Dirtied Glass (and in Front of?)

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I don't remember much about the first time I got my window.
The only thing I can recall about that time is that things were much clearer,
Much better.
Well I guess it's of little consequence, as that was then and this is now.
But still, it would be nice to see as I did.

I think there's something wrong with my window.
It used to be in perfect condition, but it's taken quite a beating over the years.
Every day new blemishes appear, developing a tint of sorts.
Then again, I see the same thing happening to everyone else's window, so I guess I can't complain.
They don't seem to care, or even notice it for that matter.
I guess it's not that bad.

It's getting harder every day to see through my window.
As I look through it even now, I can barely make out what I saw just last week.
How could so much change happen in such a small amount of time?
I've asked  others about these changes and they say not to worry, that it's all part of maturing.
I guess they're right, and the change was probably more gradual than I'm making it out to be.
After all, if it was so sudden, then why can't I remember what things were like just last week?
I guess this is just the way things have always been.

I'm a lot more accustomed to my window now, I barely notice that it's there.
Good thing too, I was starting to think there was something wrong with it.
I don't know how my window stacks up against other people's, but I think that's normal.
Barely anyone my age still talks about the windows, or even notices them at all.
I think I should do the same.

There's nothing to indicate that I'm looking through a window at all now.
I've tried to talk to my peers about it, but they just look at me like I'm crazy.
The few who do respond claim there were never any windows at all.
Maybe they have a point, but could it be true?
I sure don't remember anything about what I saw through these windows, and I should think I would.
They must be right, it's really the only logical conclusion.
Me and my overactive imagination, I guess.

What a relief it is to see like I used to, like I always have!
What a relief!
What am I looking at again?
The same thing the same way.   
Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot for a moment... I should really stop doing that.
Doing what?
I don't know, should I?
Stop that.  What a relief!
What a relief.






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