by Marti

I guess I just need new sensations, there is not much challange to face recently. If I could work more, maybe my mind had less time to get screwed up. Never mind, at least I have plenty of time to keep my home clean and tidy, which is good, who wants to live with dirt, filth and mess around, because I don’t, that’s for sure.

I like it when shiny things really shine; this is the purpose of them being made shiny, isn’t it? Like the water tap. Or the mirror. I like mirrors, a lot. A good while ago I randomly walked into a fleamarket-shop on St James’s Street and I saw this huge mirror with this wide, golden, antique frame you would usually find on old paintings and stuff. Omg, that mirror made my heart skip a beat or two. It was much bigger than me, about 1.8m high and like 1.5m wide, might have been even bigger in measures, I don’t know. Square meters of beauty, sparkling and shiny surface to show you the world from a whole different point of view, making you see how the world looks like with you in.

When I’m spending long minutes standing in front of a mirror, watching myself, it’s not because I am so truly amazed with my own look or whatever. Mirrors make me feel sure that I am there, for real, part of the physical world, just like everything else, other people, the bus Nr7, a half dried yucca or seagulls spying on rooftops. That’s like, you’re not different, you’re taking up some place on this planet in exactly the same way like all the other stuff, and unless you are looking at yourself in a mirror you can’t see it because you are right behind your eyeballs and not in front of them. This is like an additional, extra way of sensing yourself,  kind of doubling up the input information.

If I had a needless three hundred quid, I’d buy that mirror and fixed it on the ceiling right above my bed.