how my eyes work,what i feel because of them.

I remember in the winter of 2010 I was at my local park by the library. I had accustumed myself to walking at the late hours of the night to be alone so I could write my thoughts how I felt about things and write poems or simply sentences that came from within myself I wrote all this in my journal. kind of like im doing here. for you see I could not sleep. I came out while others would go home to lay their heads for the coming morning. so on my wallk one night I came upon a ginkgo tree its leaves had yellowed, there was snow on the ground. I got this sense of peace, of sincere beauty , the texture of the dead leave had only a whisper of life and it looked so forlorne at that point in my life I was depressed and the funnniest thing is that my depression had brought out my brand new eyes. I used to look at the world like I suspect most people do, and I dont mean to be assuming here its jsut that I notice strangers that walk by with their eyes full of thought. it came to a surprise to me that they had not noticed that the cement they had just stepped on was grey that it had the most extraordinary cracks. that there would never be another just like it. im sure they know its grey but did they really just look. thats the thing I now have looked upon an apple that I myself set on a tub an apple that my little nephew would never finish and I could feel its beauty of just being in the most unfamiliar place. so I ask has anyone had any thoughts similar to this. I really would love to know I would enjoy living it in my head.