mirrors - shard one

I think.
I think, and therefore I write.
I write, and therefore I read.
I read.

I write because I hope someone will read.
I read, because someone writes.

I speak because I hope someone will listen.
I listen, because someone speaks.

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The ranting above is really just an offshoot from the story that I'm currently writing. This is the first time I'm actually revealing part of the machinery that clunks around in my head as I'm writing a story. I'm a little unaccustomed to doing this, but I thought that I would open myself up to someone - anyone, really.

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This summer has been a rough one for me. Definitely qualifies as the proverbial emotional roller-coaster that gets thrown around a little too flippantly for comfort. The highs have been utterly awesome, and the lows have forced me to redraw the bottom of the graph. I've learnt some really hard lessons in an even harder way.

Enough said, I guess. I'm tired. I want to sleep, but I can't. I feel a lot like the main character in Cashback, Ben Willis. He develops insomnia after he splits up with Suzy, his girlfriend, and after four weeks of being awake, he decides to take up a job as part of the night shift staff at his local Sainsbury's. I don't want to spoil the movie for you though, so I'll stop here.

I just wish I could see beauty the way Ben Willis could, and that I could paint like he could.

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I have a slight fear of mirrors. They freak me out a lot, to tell the truth. But in the midst of reflecting upon my story, I did think about mirrors.

What do you see when you look into the mirror? Yourself, naturally. But what do you really see? Do you see who you are? Rather, do you see who you are not?

I wish I could go on for a little longer, but I want to read a bit. Till the next post, where I'll actually say something interesting about mirrors and reflections.