it's sad to not sense things, particularly about oneself. apparently i have no sense of smell, or a poor, or rudimentary one, like the eyes of a blind cave fish behind sealed eyelids. maybe it's because of all the chemicals in the world, maybe my nose got dulled by exposure, though i smelled the chemical attack from the 11th floor, and i think i'd notice if the government launched a chemical attack on us. what doesn't kill me makes me stronger? or dulls my sense of smell, and kills me slowly. but this scares me, as a missing sense means trouble reading the world and the self in the world. but i get by. i guess, don't i? get by? i must have some threshold, maybe i sense the smell of things that matter to me. i know my threshold is low in some senses, my threshold at home is dirty, i hope other senses sense the lack and become keener, but maybe all my senses are compromised. maybe i've been exposed to too much poop. maybe the modern world dulls my senses. maybe the modern world both dulls my senses and makes me paranoid. maybe when one sense gets keener another dulls. mister seems to have an exquisite nose while he gets more myopic and hard of hearing. though it may always have been his best sense. i don't know if any of my senses get sharper. my eyesight probably weakens and yet i think i see more particularly, and see a particular way, though i may have seen more and sharper before. with words and thoughts, my focus, my sense, comes and goes. i s'pose we have to play with what we got.