I am sure this is an illusion…my mind is squeezing, my eyes getting smaller around the corner and my sight clashing in my mind creating an illusion of no vision. The point here the sights of the left meet the right and strike opposite ends of the back of the brain, my sights clash and collapse – result no vision – an illusion.
Getting smaller and smaller as days pass by, these are my own pair of eyes that see me diminishing day on day. I see my reflection in the murky pond outside, it gives me no picture of myself. I looked covered in dirt as though I swam dirty waters just to look myself up in the pond.
There is a mirror in one corner of the room and me on the other, I watch myself diminish in that mirror. Self image have never been so difficult to accept. I don’t even dare to move from my corner or set the mirror up in the middle of the empty. The illusion keep me so occupied in my mind and enslaves me, these shackles do not let me move a thing. These are shackles of being in my own skin, and occupying my own space, the shackles of security.
Every day the same episode has to replay, I move in and out through the same door step on yesterday’s steps, place myself exactly where I have been placing myself since. If you think I play this game of watching myself diminish everyday anticipating the end and gambling in my mind the consequences then I need to correct you. Illusions are intriguing; they are like a sharp knife kept on your skin with a constant torque, at first it shocks you, then the first drop of freely rolling blood scares, but as the sharpened tip penetrates in and the sharp side of the knife starts to cut there is pain. There after follows a stage wherein pain becomes sweet and the drops of freely flowing blood tickle. But as the cut gets wider because knife getting in deeper there are a multitude of emotions fear, anger, anguish but what prevails is a sense of helplessness because you cannot do anything to stop all that is happening. And the last stage is I think of acceptance, to take your eyes over your skin and watch the knife penetrate from end to end. Let your eyes watch all of this and let the vision die off with the last breath.
I am at that stage of the Illusion where the tickles of having it are long gone and the whole idea and sight of me getting smaller day by day in the mirror is making me feel helpless. I want to see myself grow in my own eyes. Maybe the next time I get here, I would get something to magnify myself.
This thing does not help, I look larger than life, but in parts. What I am watching is magnified, but not me. Time is running out, I am diminishing day by day and a part of me magnified is again an Illusion, nothing so permanent about it.
So like a ritual I moved in again in the empty spaces. In the mirror I looked at my eyes first just to blame my today’s reduction on them. But if I would have done that, it would have been an utterly false allegation. So I kept staring at the diminished me, understanding that today the space that I occupy is going to reduce tomorrow, not sure whether accepting it, but understanding it for sure.
I moved out earlier today, I thought that as I diminish the time for which I suffer should also diminish. But the burden of the day was still there on my heart and like a daily wager who has to toil for fixed hours to earn his sleep at night I too had to occupy that space in the empty room for the fixed hours. I went back, well nothing astonishes me anymore (what could – I was carrying the brunt of me evaporating into nowhere) there was no room in my mind for amusements and astonishments. But the kittens where growing behind the mirror. I had never noticed them there while I served my sentenced hours in the space. The kittens were growing and where pushing the mirror away from the wall at an angle.
The refection was angled image of me. I did not displace the kittens and let them grow behind the mirror. But I changed something from that day; and so it’s called a ‘day’ now and no more ‘empty spaces’
And the tulips outside…are bright red.
Getting smaller and smaller as days pass by, these are my own pair of eyes that see me diminishing day on day. I see my reflection in the murky pond outside, it gives me no picture of myself. I looked covered in dirt as though I swam dirty waters just to look myself up in the pond.
There is a mirror in one corner of the room and me on the other, I watch myself diminish in that mirror. Self image have never been so difficult to accept. I don’t even dare to move from my corner or set the mirror up in the middle of the empty. The illusion keep me so occupied in my mind and enslaves me, these shackles do not let me move a thing. These are shackles of being in my own skin, and occupying my own space, the shackles of security.
Every day the same episode has to replay, I move in and out through the same door step on yesterday’s steps, place myself exactly where I have been placing myself since. If you think I play this game of watching myself diminish everyday anticipating the end and gambling in my mind the consequences then I need to correct you. Illusions are intriguing; they are like a sharp knife kept on your skin with a constant torque, at first it shocks you, then the first drop of freely rolling blood scares, but as the sharpened tip penetrates in and the sharp side of the knife starts to cut there is pain. There after follows a stage wherein pain becomes sweet and the drops of freely flowing blood tickle. But as the cut gets wider because knife getting in deeper there are a multitude of emotions fear, anger, anguish but what prevails is a sense of helplessness because you cannot do anything to stop all that is happening. And the last stage is I think of acceptance, to take your eyes over your skin and watch the knife penetrate from end to end. Let your eyes watch all of this and let the vision die off with the last breath.
I am at that stage of the Illusion where the tickles of having it are long gone and the whole idea and sight of me getting smaller day by day in the mirror is making me feel helpless. I want to see myself grow in my own eyes. Maybe the next time I get here, I would get something to magnify myself.
This thing does not help, I look larger than life, but in parts. What I am watching is magnified, but not me. Time is running out, I am diminishing day by day and a part of me magnified is again an Illusion, nothing so permanent about it.
So like a ritual I moved in again in the empty spaces. In the mirror I looked at my eyes first just to blame my today’s reduction on them. But if I would have done that, it would have been an utterly false allegation. So I kept staring at the diminished me, understanding that today the space that I occupy is going to reduce tomorrow, not sure whether accepting it, but understanding it for sure.
I moved out earlier today, I thought that as I diminish the time for which I suffer should also diminish. But the burden of the day was still there on my heart and like a daily wager who has to toil for fixed hours to earn his sleep at night I too had to occupy that space in the empty room for the fixed hours. I went back, well nothing astonishes me anymore (what could – I was carrying the brunt of me evaporating into nowhere) there was no room in my mind for amusements and astonishments. But the kittens where growing behind the mirror. I had never noticed them there while I served my sentenced hours in the space. The kittens were growing and where pushing the mirror away from the wall at an angle.
The refection was angled image of me. I did not displace the kittens and let them grow behind the mirror. But I changed something from that day; and so it’s called a ‘day’ now and no more ‘empty spaces’
And the tulips outside…are bright red.
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