I guess it doesn't make any sense at all, whoever invented mirrors.
No one really wants to see herself, I figure. We're all hiding, hoping with our fingers crossed that somehow we'll make it out of the day better off than we were the day before. But no one's really out there exposing herself - her heart, passions, ambitions, everything. Instead everyone has a story to tell and a soul to protect. We've all got something to hide. All keeping secrets we never want to tell. We're all frail and breaking inside, hoping that we won't break anymore.
Personally, I'm best at hiding my hard days from the sun. Better than, say, hiding a frown from those around me, better than fighting back tears, et cetera. I'm best at taking my regrets to the sky, searching the constellations for forgiveness because I won't forgive myself. I won't forgive anybody else.
Occasionally I wake up in places that I don't remember falling asleep. I'm not talking about figurative imagery, and I'm not talking about forgetful debauchery. I mean, I actually think there is something terribly wrong with me, medically.
The unusual thing (beyond the fact that this happens to begin with) is that I wake up in these unusual places and decide that I enjoy being at those locations more than I liked being wherever it was where I'd been before. I like being able to disappear into a new location, and leave everyone around behind.
Sometimes I think that I may finally understand the wonder in my eyes when I look in a mirror. The wonder I see in the reflection staring back. I believe sometimes that I might finally understand the complex person that lies inside of that plane mirror and this body.
There is something wonderful about my friend, JP. About the way he sees things so clearly and he doesn't ever seem to have much to say. I mean I really would love it if he'd talk a bit more because when he does talk he's always saying something meaningful and thought-provoking. He's always giving everyone around him a real reason to listen.
Last night our paths crossed, and it'd been a while. It was a marvelous suprise.
After leaving, I did some thinking and realized that all this time I've blamed my heavy mind and heart on other people. Dismal friends having me down, apathy at home, work, et cetera. But, I realize that in all actuality it's just me being an idiot.
A selfish idiot.
And as the new year is quickly approaching, I think I am going to spend another year alone. In the most emotional sense of the word.
I should have no complaints. I am fortunate to have wonderful Lucas in my life, a decent family - what's left of it, and friends that are easy to count on.
Yet I'm always carrying so much fucking weight on my mind, and my reflection is perfectly weightless, as it is with the science of collimated beams of light.
I guess mirrors just happen to be the means of illustrating all of this, it isn't that mirrors are awful, it's just that forsaken realization that human beings are never going to reach the carefree weightlessness that lies in their reflections, in constellations, in the cruel world which encompasses them.