#also your welcome not to repost since its late cecil-apologist

[esotericallyaesthetic]

i dont look in mirrors

There's a floor length mirror sitting in the corner of my room. I forget its there and honestly it doesn't need to be. It's cracked, the frame all busted, would probably leave crystal cuts of glitter all over my floor if i were to ever try to move the damn thing. But I won't because I can't-even see my reflection in it most days, my own accusing stares hidden above and to the left of bad angles and worse lighting.

Once in a nonreflective and dingy basement, my friend and I were discussing if we could fight our mirror selves, shooting a breeze we could not feel six feet below the earth. I told her she would fight her reflective counterpart and not just survive, but thrive, thrumming with victory, matte blood flooding out or rushing over any trace of something shiny. But not even the cool damp earth could hold the entirety of the encounter, the void everpresent noticeable even over the beating of the drums, the victory, her existence tinged with a loss any onlooker could not help but feel and subsequently be numbed by, just a bit worse off for taking the time to view such a sad story.

For myself, i was told i would not end up fighting my mirror self. That my warped counterpart would come out swinging and i would try to play the game only to be overcome, the lights haloing and the fractals dazzling. I would only be able to sit down and commiserate, until neither of us could kill or be killed. I cannot stand to look in mirrors but i cannot throw the mirror in the corner away.