In the darkness that is now his realm, Sutherland feels a deep, seething anger rising within him—directed as much at himself as at the world of the sighted. The accident returns like a gnawing obsession: a moment of error, a second of carelessness that cost an entire life. Consumed by guilt, he replays the fatal instant over and over, searching for a flaw, an explanation. His frustration grows toward those who, without thinking, continue to live under the rule of their eyes, unaware of the subtle richness of the tactile and auditory world. He begins to despise their superficiality, their obsession with the visible, their addiction to images and their deceptive power.
This resentment gradually turns to disgust: Sutherland can no longer bear a society blinded by visual illusion. In his anger, he also finds the strength to radically oppose the tyrannical reign of sight.