As I step into the world, I find that I have an urge. To see things and touch them, and to know hem as I feel they know me.
It is strange, as I do not even know myself, not really. I know I have a face, and as I look in the mirror, I recognize it as my own. But as i stand there, watching, it changes before my very eyes, becoming something new and strange and so vastly overwhelmed that I find myself lost, and must one again grab my bearings.
Who am I?
Well I am most certainly me. I can see it there, in the changing regions of my reflection, in the valley’s of my cheeks, and eyes, which look out at me smartly, as if they know something I do not.
Do others see me as I do?
I do not think so. I see myself as I see my mind, moving, changing, trapped within the constant flow of my thoughts. At times they overwhelm me, swallowing me up until I choke, and at times they bring me peace.
No, they must not see me as I do. But then, how do I see them.
To me they are all just faces. I associate them, not with names, but with memories, a friend, and acquaintance it doesn’t matter, they are all precious gems tucked away within my vault of a heart as I horde each moment. These are my trinkets, my gold and silver, dollar and change. These things that build me, that shape my face and its changing, that make me who I am. And they make the things around me glow and shimmer with magic.
I can see them now, the objects that draw me in, and look at them with many eyes. The eyes of parents and of teachers, of strangers and of friends. Looking through them, I know the world, and am ready to show myself in all that I am,leaping unperturbed into whatever awaits, for I know, that whatever awaits, i have an army of thousands beneath me and above, ready to keep me from falling.