Reflections

  I stare, at myself and the people around me. Reflections; we are. Reflections; we’ve become. Floating images reflecting one another in a subtle platform of beings. I stare… In doubt,  questioning the clarity of these reflections; the validity of the images they reveal, and the authenticity of the impressions they seem to impose.

In wonder, I try to estimate how distant our reflections are from who we really are. Is it really a mere reflection of a genuine core; or rather a blunt comeback we chose to reflect upon our lives? The more I stare; the more the figures grow turbid. The more I stare, the more I understand that time doesn’t necessarily clear everything up, doesn’t necessarily polish these images into shinier and shinier reflections. On the contrary, it turns them more abstract with dimensions that are totally up to you to consider or not. My thoughts are now pebbles disrupting the floating figures. Peacefully; carefully… They stir up my own reflection before they do to those floating in turbulence on the world around me.

Our reflections are creations of the life, and people, around us. Everything but ourselves. Barely are. Figures match but the content still remains different; if not irrelevant. And why is that, I still wonder. I still urge myself to stare, far beyond the reflection, and deep into the banks of the images. Reflections are shields, anonymous barriers we put up… Escaping what, and into what, is still a variable that we are to personally define.

I keep throwing pebbles. Not to disturb the reflections people around me have worked so hard to create; but rather to find something genuine; something solid and concrete to hold on to. Something far from just an image.

Because in fact, we are not our own reflections. We are what remains behind the glass pane.