i like to tell stories

“.taerg oot si enola tfel eb ot erised eht nehW” | “When the desire to be left alone is too great.”

A Place That Is Not My Home, But Is A Place In Which I Stay

Sometime Or Other The Night Of March 26 Or The Morning Of March 27 | March 27, 2010 – 10:35:41 AM

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There is a wall in the place I stay that has two sides. These two photographs are on either side of this same wall. In one photograph, I can now see closed eyes in the reflection and in the reflected words, I can now see what was being thought. Both in a way I then could not have known, both I first saw on the internet and both for that moment and today, were a surprise even if I thought one was only once a theoretical possibility.

In the other photograph, I can now see open eyes where mine were once closed. This happen on the other side of this same wall in this place that is not my home but is a place in which I stay.

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There was once a line buried deep on both sides of this wall, fortunately & un-fortunately, it’s been removed for me.

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A pink flower wallpaper, a red towel that waited 277 days to be where it is, a blue nightlight that helps me see when I can otherwise not, that I keep moving around this place, a medicine cabinet I don’t use, a towel rack I never use, a towel rack I always use, a reflection that is not mine, two plastic clips that need tightening, a plastic shield that needs cleaning, a wood frame that holds it, a light switch I can never find, an orange glow, one large mirror I never photograph myself in because of that once theoretical possibility and not one wall, but three walls, one actual and two actual, reflected.