The city streets bend and change at my every whim. The power to twist behemoth buildings to metallic pretzels lies behind my smooth brown eyes. They bend and bulge as the glass morphs to conform to my every thought. The lights flare to my blurry eyes, streaking through the wavy streets. No man, no woman, no animal can see the world like me. The beauty of my true visions occupy my site, as I stare into the sky, every star shooting, the moon moving at a break-neck pace. I have made this world into the beauty I have always wanted. I see my creations in every building, every light pole, or speeding car and broken window. It fills my eyes, the power I have, I have my perfect world now. No longer will the deep smoke of the factories cloud my skies, only became paint for my eyes to brush along the dark storm clouds. Stop lights and signs shall be spread across the skies, to highlight the constellations my new eyes will create. Cavernous gorges will fill with the sparkling blue water from my painted sky. The world is my template, built to adhere to my every will. I will make my world beautiful again.