Different.  adj.  1. Partly or completely unlike. 2. Not identical or the same; other.  3. Unusual.

 I’m the shadow that walks behind you and that you can never see when you turn around.  I’ m this ever present side of you that sees your mind.  I am no god, more a jinn so to speak; and I’ve got with me a terrific and terrible weapon, one that you’ve invented for my most violent pleasure and that haunts you night and day.  One that is the product of your so-called technological progress and that now turns against you.

I’ve got a camera…

But this is a special camera, one that functions a bit queerly…..differently.  And now I’m taking pictures of you through your mirrors.  Every time you see yourself, I see your soul.


I’m the shadow you can never see because you’re looking too much at yourself, and because you never see beyond the mirror or beyond what the mirror reflects.  You’re so full of yourself that you only believe in what your eyes, those debilitated so-called superior organs of vision, bring to your brain, another supposed infinitely superior developed unit of your so fantastic human body.

Let me remind you that this latest one is actually mortal and, by consequence, all his elements actually bear a date limit of consumption.  Remember also that you cannot see UV or X-Rays, let alone facing the sun in its luminous splendor.  Stop contemplating yourself and now, face the bared truth; take off the mask and release the real you in its unashamed nudity.


I’m the dim ghost of your unleashed sins roaming around your darkened bedrooms and holy churches, staining their sheets and infecting their waters.  I can spot the foul in you and ornament its decay so that you’ll worship its image.  Forget the light of stained glass and curtains, come and meet the light in all its brightness.  Come and go astray, here, right under the sun.

I’m the dusky remnant of your burned out lives.  Feeding on fear and deception, I drench my thirst with your tears and walk the paths of your insanity.

I’m the feather you have to measure your soul to; see yourself through me and you’ll understand the righteousness of the sentence.  Still, I sing your lament and grievance like litanies and praise the depth of your sorrows, for your pain is my bread of life.

I’m the gloomy image of your so afflicted self that sees though his navel and blames the universe for its mistake.  I scorn at your vanity for you’re all indistinguishable to me, a unity of nothingness crying for its recognition, a void of ill fated ego on the look for a pedestal to spill off empty words.

Your echo on this side of the mirror is nothing but a mere specter, a chimerical hallucination.


Are you really reflecting yourself in the mirror or are you just an illusion?


If so, then I’m not behind but in front of the mirror taking pictures of me….and making a fool of myself.





“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”  (Eleonora / E. A. Poe)