Interesting how I can stare at my face in the reflective surface of my alarm clock, disregarding the bright orange numbers burning themselves into my eyes and see the dust particles that move with my breath in my peripheral vision but I cannot see myself.
I often write of things like this but I do not write of the pores in my skin that make me up or, actually, a lot of things that are a part of me
I am comfortable with innocent observations and rhetorical questions but tell me to fix my vision of myself and I’ll tell you I’m deaf
(get it? cause nothing makes sense)