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Literature Text
Have you ever looked into the mirror? I mean, really looked, to the point where what you are staring at doesn't even feel like you any more, until you're absorbed by the black pupils of your own reflection? How do you feel at that moment? Infinite? Helpless? Free? Trapped? It makes me feel like I can fly, as though my reflection is beckoning me, calling me to join her, to become her.
I can't though. I guess that's what it is to be more than one person. Or maybe I am just one, and I'm not sure which. I know who I am of course, who I want to be, but the face in the mirror offers me something else, something different. Something that I cannot reach, and cannot benefit from. Or maybe it is something only too close.
I know who she is. She has a name, and she was me; or maybe I was her. I used to be the one in the glass, the frightened child to her knowledge, to her strength. I find myself answering to her name now, as naturally as I would to my own. Other people have spoken of merging, of finding common ground, but I don't see how I could. After all, this is my life. I don't know how I could share with her. Simply because we are in the same body doesn't mean that we are similar.
It isn't that I don't like her. I think I do, I think I might love her. I think that's why I made her. Or maybe why she made me. An escape. I just am not her. At the moment, we're in limbo, held apart and trying to make our own lives, but that can't hold forever. One day, one of us will fail. One day, both of us will have to meet the other half way.
I can't though. I guess that's what it is to be more than one person. Or maybe I am just one, and I'm not sure which. I know who I am of course, who I want to be, but the face in the mirror offers me something else, something different. Something that I cannot reach, and cannot benefit from. Or maybe it is something only too close.
I know who she is. She has a name, and she was me; or maybe I was her. I used to be the one in the glass, the frightened child to her knowledge, to her strength. I find myself answering to her name now, as naturally as I would to my own. Other people have spoken of merging, of finding common ground, but I don't see how I could. After all, this is my life. I don't know how I could share with her. Simply because we are in the same body doesn't mean that we are similar.
It isn't that I don't like her. I think I do, I think I might love her. I think that's why I made her. Or maybe why she made me. An escape. I just am not her. At the moment, we're in limbo, held apart and trying to make our own lives, but that can't hold forever. One day, one of us will fail. One day, both of us will have to meet the other half way.
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Comments14
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I know it's been a long time since this was posted, but I've had it sitting on my messages list for ages now, since I wanted to comment at some point and hadn't got around to it.
There was a time when this probably would have described my feelings very well, and I can see how I could very much have related to it then. And I suppose from the point of view of reflecting on the past (pun... partially intended?) it still holds significance to me.
Trying to ignore that to gauge it more objectively, whilst also trying to avoid sounding too pretentious, it is nicely written and runs well as a short exploration of psyche. Particularly, it doesn't labour any particular point too much and feels just about the right length to say all it wants to in a way which keeps the reader engaged. Wonderful work~
Contrary to what others are saying, I don't think it feels "claustrophobic". After all, a mirror can make a space appear twice as large. But that it perhaps more a detail of personal philosophy~
There was a time when this probably would have described my feelings very well, and I can see how I could very much have related to it then. And I suppose from the point of view of reflecting on the past (pun... partially intended?) it still holds significance to me.
Trying to ignore that to gauge it more objectively, whilst also trying to avoid sounding too pretentious, it is nicely written and runs well as a short exploration of psyche. Particularly, it doesn't labour any particular point too much and feels just about the right length to say all it wants to in a way which keeps the reader engaged. Wonderful work~
Contrary to what others are saying, I don't think it feels "claustrophobic". After all, a mirror can make a space appear twice as large. But that it perhaps more a detail of personal philosophy~