Thursday, January 23, 2014

MIRRORED BEING

I am self conscious by nature. My psychic argot is a confluence of self recrimination and precarious ego boosts. I like to believe that self awareness is a major strength for me. I don't like to deny reality its realness and sometimes an unvarnished truth discomfits me because it is diametrically contradictory to my self conception. But i persist in assuring myself that it is to unambiguous truth that i owe my allegiance to.

No matter how assiduously i see the mirror reflecting me, no matter how veracious my interchanges with the mirror i find myself oscillating between what i see and what reality is. I ascertain the reality yet can't relinquish the significations the mirror reveals to me so unmitigatedly. Well i know i desire women. I thrill with lascivious joy when i contemplate a commingling. Yet i must first validate myself to myself, to affirm the centrality of my inescapable beauty. The mirror very kindly shows me what i want to see.

But even in this prepossessing  colloquy i feel a lack. All my introspective loquacity dissolves when facts appear unrelentingly before me. I am tired of the mirror's self reflexiveness. I am sick of the blueprints it proffers. When its gilt edged frame glows opalescent i want to smash it. The lack is in me and it is a primal dissolution i want to yield unresistingly to. Any becoming i cast on my being is inadequate. It seems a state of undifferentiated blankness is preferable to the ceaseless self delusions of becoming. Often i get depressed and can't think beyond the mirror. My adorned countenance reflected back to me suffuses me with eldritch feelings of self annihilation. It is a symbiosis i feel increasingly unable to break through.

One day i see her reflection. My initial response is unadulterated anger because the worldview i resigned myself to, however circumscriptional, is now shattered. My disillusion folds in on itself. But i see snow white and her reflection, with its incontrovertible singularity takes me out of myself. The specular solipsism i inhabited is deliciously surmounted. I am buffeted by vertiginous feelings of terror and release. I get up, rush to her and kiss her. 

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