18 February 2013
I stare at the mirror in front of me and all I can do is stare and admire. Admire the craft work of the golden frame that the mirror has fitted into like a golden glove, a perfect fit. I stare at the reflection of the girl. She is beautiful on the outside, long and wavy blonde hair, with sea emerald green eyes and lovely silken skin. She is not skinny nor fat, she seems just perfect on the outside, but nether her clouded eyes with make up nor her expression gives anything away. She is not very tall or very short, just about normal. On the outside she seems normal and regular.
Somehow she managed to train her expressions and the glimmer in her eyes, because to a normal eye she seem confident and majestic and great. But now I stare at the girl in the mirror and I know that she is I. She is what she needs you to be, but to herself she is lost and confused and not sure of where she is heading.
She is like a house down the road it's outside beautiful, but no one knows who lives inside or how they decorate their garden or their living room. No one knows.
Smoke And Mirrors • Opuss № I