flexing marble tabletop gloss. orange juice in a cool tall glass with smudges on the palm place. i can see the lamp and your face in the juice, your teeth and your eye-whites. reflecting and wrapped in glass.
She peered into the water and watched the multi-colored sky reflecting on the still lake.
The red hood of a 1998 Toyota lay a half inch beneath the surface. She wondered at the terror that must have run through those little minds once the icy water began to swallow them whole. She sighed and watched the divers prepare for entry.
The idealic scene before her was a lie. A mirage. Only death remained.
reflecting back on the changes I have seen in the last 50 years it is amazing. I remember record players that you could carry around. They sounded terrible, but we didn’t know any better. We got rid of those. We went to cassettes, then CDs then downloads, now cool people buy LPs with better needles and better speakers. I find that it is getting harder to keep up with the changes. I don’t know what’s ahead.
Reflecting about my day. I remember that I started my morning off in a trance. The sun caught my eyes as it popped up over the foothills. I did not mean to get lost in the moment. Yet, if I had to be lost, in the moment is a good place to be. I loved watching the beams of light bounce off the windows on the foothills. It made me feel like I was waking up with the morning. As if mother nature captured a spell on me and I was happy in the moment. Reflecting back on my morning, I realize this is how I want every morning to begin.
In her reflection she saw nothing but a blur. If it hadn’t been for the police officer she would have been dead, now she’s alive but her sight is worse. Wich for her was dreadful. A woman born to be a moviemaker, a director, lost the thing she needed to do what she loved.
he met his eyes, reflecting back to him in the pool of blood, watching him. He didn’t know what he was doing at first, he had no control over his arms, his legs, his head. But now that he is fully aware of what happened, he meets a smile reflecting back at him.
I had been reflecting on the past few years, and all that I have gone through. Its amazing to see how much I’ve changed and grown. I think everyone should do some reflecting, it is good for you.
I wonder if vanity only came about with the invention of the mirror. Before reflective glass, water was really the only common substance capable of accurately reflecting your outward appearance. How would the people of today react to not being able to view themselves on a minute to minute basis? No mirrors and no cameras. How much of our own personal value do we base on our appearance? How many people would feel lost and confused in a world where they could not see themselves as others do?
When self-reflecting, there are always going to be blind spots that you miss. Sometimes, those blind spots suddenly become visible by seeing parts of yourself reflected in another person.
Reflecting. Jesus fucking Christ, sometimes it feels like that’s all I do these days. How can I not? I reflect on her eyes, endless and infinite and idiotically wide as I tell her what I’ve done. I reflect on the tremble of her hands and my grip around the gun goes slack.
She smashed another glass, and then another, watching them spray and spatter all over the wall and send up crystal flares that stung at her cheeks and ripped at her eyes. Something red was blossoming against the snow, and she shook her head and picked up another.
Reflecting brings up so many wonderful memories of how my grams used to speak gentle and show how delicate being kind can make a difference in other people around us…love with a gentle heart is my reflecting of a mighty woman with dignity and grace. Thanks Grams for your example, so as I may be reflecting in these moments.
I wonder how much reflecting I can really do without a mirror. When I’m staring at the glass, every blemish is so plainly clear. I can count the bumps that form the constellations on my weathered skin. If only they were bright as stars instead of being ugly as sin. Perhaps I would much rather reflect in front of a murky pond or lake. At least my face would be blurrier, and my self-confidence wouldn’t shake.
flexing marble tabletop gloss. orange juice in a cool tall glass with smudges on the palm place. i can see the lamp and your face in the juice, your teeth and your eye-whites. reflecting and wrapped in glass.
She peered into the water and watched the multi-colored sky reflecting on the still lake.
The red hood of a 1998 Toyota lay a half inch beneath the surface. She wondered at the terror that must have run through those little minds once the icy water began to swallow them whole. She sighed and watched the divers prepare for entry.
The idealic scene before her was a lie. A mirage. Only death remained.
once there was a me
then there was a you, too
and we couldn’t help but look
and see ourselves in eachother
now you are me as i am you
and we can’t love eachother because
we see what we hate
in you
in me
reflecting back on the changes I have seen in the last 50 years it is amazing. I remember record players that you could carry around. They sounded terrible, but we didn’t know any better. We got rid of those. We went to cassettes, then CDs then downloads, now cool people buy LPs with better needles and better speakers. I find that it is getting harder to keep up with the changes. I don’t know what’s ahead.
Reflecting about my day. I remember that I started my morning off in a trance. The sun caught my eyes as it popped up over the foothills. I did not mean to get lost in the moment. Yet, if I had to be lost, in the moment is a good place to be. I loved watching the beams of light bounce off the windows on the foothills. It made me feel like I was waking up with the morning. As if mother nature captured a spell on me and I was happy in the moment. Reflecting back on my morning, I realize this is how I want every morning to begin.
something so the same, kinda new not different mostlty the same. one two hairs out o place. not much else though what do see?
In her reflection she saw nothing but a blur. If it hadn’t been for the police officer she would have been dead, now she’s alive but her sight is worse. Wich for her was dreadful. A woman born to be a moviemaker, a director, lost the thing she needed to do what she loved.
he met his eyes, reflecting back to him in the pool of blood, watching him. He didn’t know what he was doing at first, he had no control over his arms, his legs, his head. But now that he is fully aware of what happened, he meets a smile reflecting back at him.
I had been reflecting on the past few years, and all that I have gone through. Its amazing to see how much I’ve changed and grown. I think everyone should do some reflecting, it is good for you.
I wonder if vanity only came about with the invention of the mirror. Before reflective glass, water was really the only common substance capable of accurately reflecting your outward appearance. How would the people of today react to not being able to view themselves on a minute to minute basis? No mirrors and no cameras. How much of our own personal value do we base on our appearance? How many people would feel lost and confused in a world where they could not see themselves as others do?
When self-reflecting, there are always going to be blind spots that you miss. Sometimes, those blind spots suddenly become visible by seeing parts of yourself reflected in another person.
She looked into the water, but it was moving too quickly to see herself.
Reflecting. Jesus fucking Christ, sometimes it feels like that’s all I do these days. How can I not? I reflect on her eyes, endless and infinite and idiotically wide as I tell her what I’ve done. I reflect on the tremble of her hands and my grip around the gun goes slack.
mirrors reflect um and my computer screen reflects my face when the screen goes black.
mirror
´´ The headache is derived from stress and perhaps a lack of proper sleep´´, said the headcher.
´´ Relax the reflecting retina upon the focus of worry and it will go´´, said the bell for writing.
She smashed another glass, and then another, watching them spray and spatter all over the wall and send up crystal flares that stung at her cheeks and ripped at her eyes. Something red was blossoming against the snow, and she shook her head and picked up another.
Reflecting brings up so many wonderful memories of how my grams used to speak gentle and show how delicate being kind can make a difference in other people around us…love with a gentle heart is my reflecting of a mighty woman with dignity and grace. Thanks Grams for your example, so as I may be reflecting in these moments.
I wonder how much reflecting I can really do without a mirror. When I’m staring at the glass, every blemish is so plainly clear. I can count the bumps that form the constellations on my weathered skin. If only they were bright as stars instead of being ugly as sin. Perhaps I would much rather reflect in front of a murky pond or lake. At least my face would be blurrier, and my self-confidence wouldn’t shake.