That there, that’s not me. I go where I please. I walk through walls. I float down the Liffey. I’m not here. This isn’t happening. – Radiohead
You cannot hide behind your own visage.
Your insecurities are audible through the static of hyperbole.
Your insubstantiality is betrayed by recycled words and impersonation.
Yet you woke up again this morning and gave yourself a wash, a shave and a look. You told the mirror that you don’t care what anyone thinks, as you continued to primp and preen for the benefit of the reflective glass above the vanity. As you practiced confidence, the nerves within your joints understood that you fear even the mirror’s disapproval.
Look at me! (Don’t look at me!) you shouted to the world as you stepped outside; but nobody heard, because they weren’t listening any more than they were looking.
Only you can care so much about you. Those who know you know there’s no you but tell you you’re a great you because you ask them to. You bask in flattery that you solicit through coercion.
I hope one day soon you’ll awaken with your eyeballs facing outward. The first thing you’ll see is the sun. The last thing you’ll see is the moon. And in between, you’ll see many others trying to hide behind their own visages; impersonating hipsters and demigods, talking in hyperbole and plagiarism. They are just part of the landscape. Don’t pay them any mind and for Christ’s sake, don’t imitate them.
Why not release your burden and become a god? It’s really quite simple. All you have to do is forget your name and smash your mirrors. When you allow yourself to disappear completely, you’ll finally discover your divinity hiding in plain sight, waiting to be reclaimed.