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My world is a corridor of mirror after mirror after cracked antique laminated glass false reflection. They are all my face sent back to me in forms that are precious, in forms I abhor, in forms of ambivalence. And why should it surprise me that I should find the ways we all hold one another on silver filigree handles of self adoration and loathing turning self conscious before the full length mirror in the corners where we find it. I am clinging and clawing to the ways they replace my lacking. But if I were to find my silence and my center I would see all of them at my core gazing back lovingly reminding me she has always been there within me. That I will never find her anywhere but inside my rattling rib cage. That he nor she can give it to me. That this has been my greatest mistake all along.

Today I am lonely.

11:53 a.m. - 2005-08-31
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