I didn’t like what I saw. I looked Iike them, and it was all I could see, until I started seeing my real self.

Recognizing myself in the mirror should be simple but it was not. I didn’t like what I saw. It wasn’t as I had imagined myself, and this was the problem. I didn’t hate what I saw, I just didn’t like it. This would be the meat that would feed the wolves.

My doubt in what the mirror reflected, and the truth, weren’t in equilibrium. There must be an error in the equation. If I could just figure this whole thing out logically then I would be able to appropriate the blame to someone or even something else. As great as my mind is, I can’t think while looking in this mirror and its reflection of me.

In a glimpse, I could barely see the people who were responsible. Yes, there it is, I can see it on myself as if they have contaminated me. I see their eyes, nose and other features that aren’t me. In fact, Good god, do I look like them? No, it can’t be.

Perhaps in time, I’ll grow out of it. Certainly, this has worked for me so far. Maybe after another adolescent transformation I won’t look like them at all. I feel like a boot print made in soft mud that captures the detail of the tread of another.

An Honest Look

Am I just a replica of someone else? Is that what the mirror reflects? I can’t deal with this. What can I do to transform myself to immediately become another? I must hide. Hopefully, no one else can see what I can’t stand to see -which is that I look like him or her.

It’s not just the way I look. My body moves like theirs, and worse, it even thinks like theirs. I can’t see anything beautiful. I guess there’s some kind of beauty in a Xerox copier, but is that what I have become? A facsimile?

The thoughts are overwhelming; and if I were so inclined I would drink like he did, to negate the reality of the mirror. I can’t do that, as it would make me like him. And if I don’t drink then it would make me like her. How am I to escape the skin that captures me?

The wolves have smelled the doubt, fear and dislike of my own self and have begun to circle. They say they have potions, procedures, and things that can be done to augment the reality of the silly mirror. Perhaps this is the problem. Maybe I should do away with the reflection.

This makes sense, and in letting go of the mirror there is no need to deny what is before me and I can lie. Yes, let’s lie. I feel good about my decision in removing all the mirrors that reflect the truth of what I have become. I will pretend to be me, and hopefully in time, others will accept it.

Some of my kind, have learned to hide themselves with their money. Certainly, I could use money to distract myself, like a hall of mirrors, to give me the reflection I have paid for. I can use my money to get what I want, the lie that I don’t want to see in a true mirror. This feels magnificent, and with that I can’t wait to invite all my new friends to reflect to me what I crave.

I just want to be important. This isn’t too much to ask. I don’t want to look like them. I understand that there are certain attributes that I have, that are like theirs, but I didn’t choose them. Not really.

I don’t remember walking through any kind of facility and choosing the parts that represent me. If I did, I would have selected differently. I know I would have, I tell myself. I never really had such a choice.

The trouble with this mirror, isn’t the wolves that surround it to embrace my battle against myself to become another, it is the depth in which this mirror can reflect. While I am afraid of looking like them, much worse is the fear that I think like them. I can change the way I look and many people I know have changed their names as another means to hide their identities. There are also whole cultures that have denied themselves in their new rituals and beliefs.

Thrown to the wolves

My trouble isn’t my name, which is a tattoo of sorts that will never leave me even if I get another. The trouble with this mirror, as I continue to look into it, is what I’m thinking. Earlier, I said that I didn’t like what I saw in the reflection. I lied, I hate the reflection.

Well, not all of it, and this is why I bounce back and forth to find the correct word. I’m good with that thought and feel more at ease until I think; no, actually I know, that’s exactly what they did. Am I doomed to the reflection of the mirror that reflects them and not me? Am I to suffer for the thoughts that aren’t mine as I look at myself hearing their thoughts as if they were my own?

I don’t know. I do wonder about what others have successfully done before me. How did they get past this dreaded place? Here come the wolves again, each of them wanting to share with me the ways in which I can be welcomed by denying my own reflection and myself. I have often wondered how anyone can be trained to fight and kill.

I think I have now found the answer. By empowering the wolves, that want to tear apart my carcass, they will give me a new identity. One that won’t look like those who bore me, instead I will be given the nondescript grey uniform of a soldier. I will loose my identity for a Military corps. And in the group, I can feel safe.

As the wolves approach embracing my consideration to join the pack, I suddenly realize that they too are all hiding. It must feel good to be a part of the assembly and to be led by others, who must know themselves or the way. Now, I’m uncertain. My demeanor changes and the wolves inch closer with intimidation to “give myself up.”

Suddenly, the energy of the scene breaks as the four-legged animals turns mean and snarls somehow saying that, “I don’t have any other choice.” I get it, I do, I don’t want to be stuck looking like those before me and the ease in which I could blend into the pack is so appealing. What should I do? I feel confused.

I so want to adorn a uniform that distinguishes me with the honor I so desire. But how can I get this by wearing a costume? It appears the wolves that surround me are real friends and that they are righteous in their desire to assist me in my transformation. I again fall back to the ease to be rid of the looks and characteristics that this mirror relentlessly reflects. The beasts all grin with wild excitement of what I’m contemplating giving up.

I feel dizzy. I can’t tell if the wolves are my friends or not. I feel swayed and could easily succumb myself to being asleep in a pack whereby wolves really become sheep in blindly following one another. This thought does not sit well with me. I don’t want to become a wolf to be honored by the pack and in service of another to actually become a sheep that bleats the thoughts of others.

The pack of wolves senses my indecision and approach even more deadly in their position to attack. I am alone. There’s nothing but a mirror and me. I don’t know what to believe but something doesn’t feel right.

Something now tells me I’m in danger. It’s like waking from a dream, I don’t know how I got here but I’m in a bad situation. My eyes are cloudy or are they clear? I begin to rub them. I see reflections of those I was trying to escape, not in my mirror, but in the faces of the wolves.

This can’t be true, I exclaim within myself. Then feelings of risk and liability continue to rise. Suddenly, I realize the environment around me is about to explode in warfare. I stop thinking and face the alpha wolf and his female companion. If I fight, I become them -comes the sudden burst of heavenly inspiration.

Freedom From Fear

I decide to do nothing. I stand looking, but not provokingly at the leader of my clan and his partner. The feeling of not fighting weirdly feels more comfortable than engaging in combat. I am free comes another golden nugget of spiritual encouragement. And as such, my body involuntarily relaxes as if I am actually in a safe environment and I begin to walk away.

The leader of the pack leaps to attack in a last moment of desperation and I quickly relocate myself out of harms way. I’m free. I can feel it. I don’t know how to explain it as I continue walking to break from the fear of the pack as I keep walking.

Behind me, the pack erupts in a fight. I continue walking. They are fighting each other, I notice in a different reflection in my mirror. Have I been fighting myself? I begin to wonder.

I look again deep into the mirror and all that I have disliked, and even hated, but what I was afraid of is no longer predominant. This isn’t to say I don’t have a semblance of the characteristics of my family, as I do. I’m no longer haunted in what I see. I don’t fear the separation and fighting of my own self. Instead, I’m beginning to see something new.

I’m not sure where this reflection will take me but clearly I have nothing to fear in going forward. I don’t need to hide myself from the beauty of my own image. I don’t need to alter myself, deny or lie as to what I have done or where I’ve been. It’s all a part of my consideration. I am free.