I hardly ever look at myself in the mirror. What for? Whenever I paint my face, I feel as if what I use only amplifies my flaws, but I’m too frustrated to perfect. Today, however, I lifted my compact mirror and stared into my eyes. I wasn’t sure of who it was that I was staring at as my eyes darkened two shades of brown and then brightened again. Of course, the change was quick.. maybe too quick and I still feel as if somehow, I either imagined it, or someone within my mind.. one of these personalities made an attempt to push through. 

It happens often, them.. coming through and taking care of my day for me, when I’m feeling too weak and tired to do so. That’s what this day is, what it feels like. Yesterday, there was a swelling surge of emotions that I couldn’t explain, but all I could do was write. Not about the emotions, but just write something different altogether. I have been working on a story between my friend and I. A recurring dream that spawned into a full fledged idea. What overtook me yesterday, left another hole in me. I already have so many voids left by people and things. Today, it seems that hole grew deeper. Whatever…

I don’t expect for any real understanding in this, for as far as I’m concerned, who I saw when I looked into that mirror is not me, and that the me that I feel that I am now, isn’t actually me at all. 

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