Who Am I in Your Head?
thus interpreted and rationalized, often obscured in the heady haze of emotions and the beady blaze of the varied beliefs that protect our individual primordial mists. But nonetheless, our real reflection remains always unknowable. Seen only through others’ eyes, back translations, we see our assorted distortions multiplied and miniaturized, compounded in spider eyes. This one that trait, that characteristic, those behaviors, in the past, this time, tomorrow and again, each difference stacked and piled. Green, ripe, putrid all at once like a boat of bananas. Out of season but returning flash frozen, on sale, in stores nearby, at random. Who Am I in Your Head? Always complex, but only an illusion of complete. Ever evolving, never resolving to one clear sliver of light. Unknown in the spider-eyed myriad mirrors of our reflections upon reflections on reflections rationalized. Ultimately unknowable in any life time, but hopefully, not forgotten.