Monday, March 24, 2014


Does the awareness that one's aegis is the focal point of constructions liberate or constrain? This was a query she frequently reflected on, knowing that any sense of understanding she arrived at would be the culmination of the deliberation of her conscious constructedness.

What was it about the mirror that alternately pleased and discomfited her? Why, despite healthy skepticism,she sought neither affirmation nor repudiation. Perhaps it was her belief in a beyond, an awareness of the unknowable. Which didn't imply complacence in her case or a capitulation to a nebulous. It implied a worldview that was an amalgam of the rational and the impalpable.

The mirror compounded that unknowability. Self consciousness rendered her projections dubious, reality intervened fragmentarily, the possibility of anomalousness rendered even the reality whose realness she anyway doubted doubly illusory. The mirror proffered a closed circle of rapt contemplation. She could not succumb to this pleasurable narcissism nor could she devise an abstruse model of becoming to validate her becoming. So as the reflection in the mirror grew increasingly tangible, she dematerialized.

The mirror had revealed to her both the obduracy of constructedness and the inevitability of its resurgence. She could add a remnant here, daub a brushstroke there, she could realign imperceptibly the lineaments of what constituted reality but despite her best efforts the putative reality would be unavoidably itself because though the contours would shift the constituents would be unaltered.

So she gave up on the mirror, she knew it was going to be incompensatory and unfulfilling. She discerned a nebulous but didn't have the means either to traverse it and wrest meaning or to avoid acknowledging it altogether.

A crises of being. She takes a prozac, gulps it with a bottle of water and reposes dreamlessly. 


My gaze locked into my reflection the mirror. I was suffused with self contradictions. Being of a naturally lugubrious disposition and precarious about the nature of who i was i often communed with the mirror. This unreciprocated, singular intersection pleased me with gratuitous self satisfaction because i did not see what i wanted to nor what i abhorred. I saw, well i just saw me.

Being unremarkable , a doleful reproachfulness would often be my lot when onlookers projected me into my reflection, attributing causalities that were apocryphal. The reflexiveness of the mirror and my unambiguous, self contained specularity pleased me. I was neither subject of illusory fantasizing nor was i in denial. I projected my completeness on to the mirror through extrojection and introjected the wholeness that was reflected back to me.

Which is ironical because aren't project/intro/extro jections a supplanting of banality through fancy,a way of palliating discontent with self through a leap of faith. Perhaps not so unsurprising after all because in a fragmented culture wholeness seems chimerical and a patina of the phantasmatic alleviates the misery of wholesomeness.

Today as i gazed at the mirror i saw time stalled, duration in stasis, temporality suspended. I seemed to inhabit a tenebrous void, nothingness emanated from every aperture in my consciousness. The reality of self containment, so preciously held became a point of timeless, durationless emptiness. I was zero, nothing, a blank space. Where i had assumed that my self knowledge was absolution, a resistance to fragmentation i saw my self knowledge fragmented into pixels of  blankness in face of the constitutive entropy of  oblivion.

I smashed the mirror, picked up the shard and dug its sharp, jagged edge deep into my throbbing vein.