A Hall Of Mirrors.

Waking up from a world I thought was real, looking everywhere and seeing multiple projections of the person I’ve become. Through slumber, I find circumstantial footage of myself, reacting to events in ways I never thought I would. A dream with a twisted idea of mathematics, subtractions I never saw coming, people dying, leaving me powerless in the wake of a situation I thought I would be able to handle. Mirrored reflections, all reacting in different ways, none mimicking my initial motions. Doing what I can, polishing the mirrors, clearing the smudges and fingerprints intended to hide my true nature; each step counts, I can feel the need for progression, I hear it, as if my shoes are laced with wind-chimes.

Has the time come for me to be open? like a graciously provided Christmas present; willing to show content I keep on the inside. A habit i’m not familiar with, a stranger to my own emotions. Not that what I hold is invaluable, but it goes to show what I truly feel. One with the algorithm, calculating each move and staying true to myself, sheer authenticity; that is how I plan to maintain and increase the intended velocity. A tide of change, washing away what was, and bringing onto shore what will be.

-Dante