Reflection

I looked in the mirror today.

I realized that the person staring right at me was the closest to who I want to be. I never was one to admire my reflection. In fact, anyone who have gotten to know me and is still around could tell you that I have a hatred for the person in that reflection. How I never make eye contact and simply ignore them and do what needs to be done so that I can spend the least amount of time with them. I've even gotten in to points where I avoid the mirror completely choosing to shave in the shower by feel when I need to or to allow my hair to grow as long as I can tolerate it until out of an outside need it has to be cut. I've brushed my teeth while walking away and used shiny surfaces of knives to see anything tha must be seen on my face.

I can not recount when my self hatred begun or that if it is a self hatred and not a strong case of guilt or shame handed down to me from those who predicted with some fervor that my existence would only bring woe and despair. All I can tell you is that I honestly would avoid looking at myself at any point and could not apologize enough that there is not socially approved way of hiding much of my face from public out side of locking a door. And yet, I looked into the mirror.

Through years of self reflection and understanding of my past actions, present thoughts and what can be collectively be call ed my dreams, I've come to realize that while there are those who thrive in the decidable of their own image and much of what it holds for them and for others I've have a strong sense of my own personal worth being less than most. Perhaps growing up surrounded by those who have devalued my worth in order to gain some control or seeing how some with narcissistic delusion have disgusted me in not caring in my appearance has caused me in seeing myself as ugly. Perhaps it's has been early years of pudginess and later years of a sickly constitution that has warped my view of my own potential to attract others. Perhaps I still see myself as an Outcast among everyone who in truth simply asks to be near the fringe instead of center. Perhaps it was in that self stated ugliness that I learned the nature of people.

Perhaps I've learned early in life that even though in my flaws, that I had some worth and talent that would set me aside from others and did seek to cultivate them. That my pursuit of language and meaning had given me lofty ambitions in standing in the lime light, not as Hamlet, but perhaps as Richard the 3rd. Perhaps I understood the nature of cruelty and kindness in a brief glance of eye and understood what an Old Man have taught me that I must always use my illusion to understand the hidden. Sadly, any dream of standing out and feeding my anorexic ego has died years ago with the snapping of dreams and goals by those who "knew what is best".

I still question their motives.

Perhaps my physical extremes have allowed me to see my true worth and potential. Not saying that I'm a stranger of the flesh. I've had my intimate moments where heavy breathing spoke louder than words and holding another in a safe sanctuary from the rest of the world. Even so, I've learned that my physical appearance was no factor to my mystic. It has always been my potential, what I have to offer, and what people saw me in being. While I've humored many in exchanged for a pheromone rush, I could never understand what they see in me. I simply taken every moment despite of the outcome as a saved memory for the cold days to come.

In my time, I've realized my potential not being ingrained in humanity, but as an act of nature. I realized that my role to many has been an entropic factor that simply sets certain actions in motion and nothing other. I've committed many acts of cruelty with my own hands as I've paid penance in hope of redemption. I've set rights to wrongs and taken lessons to heart. I understood that I'm simply a supporting force to many and in to my own rights not an individual. I've sworn fidelity to dying causes and sworn vengeance to those who could not reach for their own justice. I've understood the value of a well placed word and have even taken hell for an individual who in the end has written me off as an expense.

To say that I care what this shell resembles is mockery of what I stand for. Flesh can heal. It's a price for what matters and pain is often a path to purification. For creatures who are finite, on may find need in preserving this mortal coil while many who have searched for great calling have agreed that flesh is only an offering. It's a method of allowing a direct role in action while we have breath. It's a moment in which we can seek the true meaning of immortality, not in selfishly continuing to live, but in a chance of making true change.

Everything has it's price. You just have to know it's value.

What am I trying to say? What am I ever trying to say?

I looked into the mirror. I expecting a scowling look from someone who made others run and scream. I expected to see someone who has cause harm to others. I was ready to see someone who has spent most of his life righting wrongs and mending bridges crossed. I expected to see cold, judging eyes disapproving.

I found none of that.

I saw something else.

I saw a tired man instead of a careless boy. I've seen traces of hard earned gray and deep worry lines. A broken nose and scared face. Short hair that exposed kind eyes full of woe, battle worn experience, and a trace of hope. the person did not scowl or judge, but understood and could forgive. A small trace of a smile on a face not used to smiling, which gave it a greater value. Someone who has kept a promise, his word, and have shown many to stand not out of an inflated idea of greatness, but for those who could not. A face of stone sin cera.

I like him. I think I like him alot.

I could not help smiling back at him as he smiled at me. It's what I always wanted. Understanding. Someone who knew what is at risk and still knew that I pursued the greater good. Someone who I've always wanted to be.

As long as it has taken to get there, it's worth it.