I think often of how I could see the world, before. During that brief and painful and glorious time with the shards of the mirror in my eye and heart. 

The absolute clarity, defiled when looking at the flawed, was sublimely beautiful when perceiving something that could not be improved upon.

I feel the memory of it even now and try to use that memory to guide my hand. If I could see as clearly as before, how could it assist me? What path could I follow?

Is it worthy to reject the inferior but vast beauty of a world that I know can never be truly perfect?

If only an improved world could be made...

-Kay's Personal Diary