Conversation With The Mirror

The train comes to a halt among the cosmic fields and lakes. Out beyond splattered across the sky like a mural is balls of multicolored lights, star dust in rainbow colors and a dark canvas which it is all etched in. Planets glides as silent as a lullaby across the abyss. Each one with features different from the next. Some have rings, other many moons. They all glow with their own uniqueness.

A passenger steps off the train and walks to the edge of the dark water which small crystals hover catching all the celestial light.

He stares out across the water.

The conductor steps out from the the train. He is dressed in black and gold. Where the head would be is an oval of glass. Inside swirling galaxies and stars hang in perpetual motion. They spin and twirl in dark colors of purple and black. Upon his head a black conductors hat sits, unmoving.

The passenger glances over and then back at the endless water.

And this is what their thoughts reflected.

Why does it feel as if i am visitor in my own life. As if the vision I see is made up. A hologram playing out among infinite organic circuits to a spirit that is confused about its place.

The reflections in the mirror that I see seems more real then the body I reside in. I look down at my legs, my arms, my whole lower body, but yet I cannot confirm that my face is even there. If I disconnect my eyes from this body and place them among a shelf would I really see my self? The shadow among the floor feels more concrete then I. It’s solidness in stark contrasts to my hollowness. My hands desperately grip the handles of my seat to confirm the my relativity to reality. To keep me from fading out of existence.

My hands clutch the steering wheel. Just a turn or two at this speed, would it produce a reaction? Any feeling? How can I be moving through space so fast, among others. It feels unrealistic, like a fantasy, my eyes and conscious combined with machine, moving faster and faster.

A city I stand among the other consciousness that roam these streets. I stand among them all, we are all there, but at the same, we are all ghosts to each other. When together. Ignored. When alone. Crying for acknowledgment. Do eyes that set themselves upon mine even have a spirit that commands them? There is no way to tell.

My body feels what it feels in instances, but the spirit and mind do not actually feel or understand. Momentary physical manifestation of what might be considered emotion. Do other bodies feel or not feel the same as I? Again, a question that will never be answered. Disassociation with the body for the spirits sake? Or maybe for the minds? Smile for the communication. Frown for the social commentary.

Close my eyes. Sweet sleep comes, but filled with other lives. Which one might be real. The mind and body does not know. What if this is all a dream and I am yet to wake. Dreams with in dreams. How many lives can I live before it’s the “real” one.

A ripple spread across the reflective water.

“What am I?” The passenger asks the conductor.

There is a long silence between them. The train engine far down the track roars in anticipation of moving again.

“You are nothing” The conductor replies.

He turns and walks back to the train then stops with one hand on the rail.

“And you are everything” he steps back on.

The passenger waits for a moment. Then returns to the train.

I am empty.

But the emptiness is filled with nothing.






This is more of a reflective piece. Humans, in my thoughts, try to communicate their experience to others in anyway they can. Whether that is through emotions, actions or other things. Everything we do is an expression of ourselves in some way. Whether we have decided to be who we are or influenced by other things to be who we are. We express those things.

This is an attempt to express my internal view or how I move along with life. No, I do not need help haha I am doing alright. This piece is incomplete. As my own vocabulary and skill can not fully convey through words how I move through life. I am not that skilled, yet.

Even so, I had the last line of this “I am empty / Full” come to me late at night when I couldn’t get to sleep. I really felt as it if represented a piece of me.

We think in duality. Happy or Sad, Angry or Calm, something in between these,but for me, not sure why, I sorta remove these. Happy and Sadness are part of each other. If you remove them, then what are you? That’s what I feel I am. What ever it is to remove the duality of life. In a couple of years I might look back and try to express again when I am more skilled.

Thank you, let’s get back on the train and listen to more Midnight Tales