This Writing Thing

It's strange one. Anyone that tries it and attempts to put feeling and emotion into it as opposed to stringing a few clichéd idealised fetishes together will I think get what I'm saying.

It's sort of akin to standing alone in an interrogation room facing that mirror that simply reflects you back at yourself… oh and of course you're naked.

On the other side of that two way mirror is everybody else looking in and commenting on your stance or general appearance or whether you seem nervous or cocky or your hair is a mess or… well anything at all that they choose to see.

Just a wee bit personal and perhaps confronting.

Now the only glimpse you get of all those people out there looking in are the comments; hits and votes tell you there's passing traffic but nothing else.

Now as you stand there naked waiting perhaps in vain for some word to say hey you're okay or please brush your hair or god when did you last shave? Where you ask, running your hands self-consciously over assorted places? See easy to not quite convey the meaning.

You may also pick at that ingrown hair and shrug… or burst into tears that someone tells you your outie's pathetic and for gods sake do something about that bikini line. And BRUSH your damn hair ya slovenly bitch. Should there be an apostrophe in there somewhere? What, where?

Think about that one eh. Just how many of us can stand in front of that mirror, never knowing how many will look in or what they'll say… or think. Then there's our own little demons whispering about, knobby knees or stray hairs or not quite being perfect.

Who amongst us is? Mirror mirror on the wall, just try to be fair to us all... oh, and gentle hmmm. Please.
Hey it's a thought.

Kristina

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