Mirrors

Mine is full of condensation because it’s cold. Very cold. You can still see the reflection of today’s bag, but it’s not ‘exact’, as Sylvia Plath would say. She has a poem called Mirror, not the most upbeat poem, as you may expect.

I am not cruel, only truthful

I don’t look myself in the mirror much these days. Partly because the mirror is often full of condensation and when it’s not, it’s in a dark spot anyway. There’s another one in the bathroom, but I don’t have a proper light so I can’t see fuck all there either. But at work there’s a massive wall mirror so even if I don’t want to look at myself, I do. And I have noticed that my 3 white hair have grown very strong and wild in recent months, as so have those 15 beard hairs which no-matter how much laser and electrolisis I put them through, they keep coming back. I know I shouldn’t feel bad about my body hair. It’s the patriarchy which has instilled the idea it’s ugly. I still don’t like it though – at least not on my chin. And anyway, enough about hair, debating too much about whether or not to shave it is just not important anymore, at least not here in the West, me thinks. If you want to grow it, you grow it, if you don’t you don’t. End of the story.