Whom Am I in Your Head?

Who Am I in Your Head?  

A voice of reason? A seed of doubt? A season passing on route?  All reflections are a fun-house mirror of sorts. Grains of truth and sands of surprises wrapped up in the warped adobe abode we build of our lives. Our own reflection the most distorted of all. Seeing ourselves for ourselves only through others' memories of our images. Squinting gilded or glided eyes,

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.