The Psychology of Wanting to See What You Shouldn't

To thoroughly observe the back of my eyes, deep behind the pupils, I underwent what is called a [[phN_open]]mydriasis[[phN_close]] examination.

It was nothing complicated; I just had some eye drops put in and waited about 20 minutes. After that, following the ophthalmologist's instructions, I looked up, looked right, and had each eye photographed, and that was it. There were no particularly urgent symptoms, and the inside of my eyeballs was perfectly clean. In the end, I just got a prescription for eye drops and went home.

However, this [[phN_open]]mydriasis[[phN_close]] state is crazy.

Having my pupils dilated means that the light control I usually perform unconsciously no longer works. In other words, it's a state where the 'aperture,' to use a camera term, doesn't function at all. Even though the sky is overcast, it shines brilliantly, and the tiny patches of blue sky peeking through the clouds look even more dazzlingly bright.
I naturally squint, but the images entering my field of vision are still strange. A world that looks like 8mm film footage with excessively strong contrast is spreading out before me.
When I cast my gaze downward, the white lines of the road shoulder painted on the sidewalk seem to swell up as if they are emitting light themselves. Their outlines are wrapped in a pale blue aura. Gross, but also cool!

It's like... the entire field of vision is slightly whitish, as if I've left the mundane world and arrived in a fairyland. If someone from the distant past without medical knowledge experienced this, they would surely be bewildered, wondering if they had wandered into heaven.
The [[phN_open]]focus[[phN_close]] is off, and it's dazzling. I had no trouble walking, but the whole experience was so full of discomfort that even my mood felt light and floaty. The journey home from the hospital was, in a sense, a fun little walk.

Now, changing the subject.
I'm going to tell you something very, very strange. Are you ready?
You can be put off by it if you want.

For quite a long time now, I've been able to see particles or something like energy drifting here and there.
It's not all the time. Let's see, for example, when I'm holed up in the restroom sitting on the toilet, or when I'm soaking in the bathtub. When my mind is calm and I'm not bothered by surrounding noises, in such enclosed spaces that meet those conditions, I can see things that are usually invisible to the naked eye—tiny specks of air, things like water droplets, floating and moving around.

No matter how I look at it, they aren't dust or dirt. And it's certainly not my beloved cat's fur dancing in the wind. It's not unlike the footage in Airdog air purifier commercials where dead mites and pollen puff up, but it's more like... a swarm of tiny somethings lacking physical substance, and their flow.

Oh, and it's not
[[phN_open]]
floaters
[[phN_close]]
either.Floaters are, you know. I've experienced them many times before.It often happens when I look up at the sky from the balcony on a sunny day.When I move my eyes, lint or things that look like tiny frog eggs start to drift along with them, floating in my field of vision, and when I try to follow them with my eyes, they fall downward as if pulled by gravity. Then, when I look up again, they appear... and it repeats.This phenomenon is clearly different. It's more like something energetic, moving while vibrating slowly. It's not related to gravity; it's wriggling and filling the space around me. Oh, it's a bit like the yellow or magenta dots that flicker on a misaligned color proof. Though it has no color.

This might also be a temporary functional abnormality, similar to the pupil dilation.
Or perhaps it's what's called sensory hypersensitivity or synesthesia.
Synesthesia is when letters or sounds are seen with colors, involving multiple senses, so maybe that's a bit different. I think it's a phenomenon where some bodily function reacts excessively or glitches, allowing me to see things that shouldn't be visible.

This might be the same logic as seeing spirits, seeing people's auras, or visually perceiving black miasma rising from ominous cursed objects.
One could interpret it as: if the channel's [[phN_open]]dimension[[phN_close]] is just slightly different, sometimes you see dust, sometimes you see even finer air currents, and sometimes you might even see the dead who aren't supposed to be visible to human eyes.

Come to think of it, the blue sky that you and I see isn't necessarily the same blue. The fact that dogs and cats can only perceive two colors, blue and yellow, is one example. The fact that insects aren't good at long wavelengths from red to orange-yellow, but can see short wavelengths like green and blue-violet well, is another. Depending on the person, the color temperature might look higher, or it might look very grainy. In the first place, even though it seems like we are all looking at the same thing, we might actually be perceiving it differently. If we're talking about film cameras, it's like saying some are Kodak Ektachrome fans, while others are Fuji Provia fans.

Sorry for telling you such a strange story.
But... I can see it, so I can't help it (laughs).

I wonder if I could see something else if I polished this ability.
I don't necessarily need to be able to see spirits, but it would be interesting if I could master infrared vision, like the extraterrestrial life form in the movie 'Predator.' Or maybe seeing people's illnesses, or seeing emotions like joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure. It's scary, but I kind of want to experience it.

It seems that in a few decades, iPS cell-related research will have advanced much further, and various organs will be able to be made with bio-3D printers. They say the cost will be about the price of one car per part. When that happens, my dreams definitely expand.

Jules Verne once said that what a person can imagine, a person can surely realize. But perhaps it is happier not to be able to perceive things that don't need to be seen or known.