Monday, March 11, 2013

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall ... Go to hell.


In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish. - Sylvia Plath, "Mirror"

These days, I understand just where the Wicked Queen was coming from. I look in the mirror and catch glimpses of my younger self wavering in the depths of the glass like a very naughty Peter Pan, flitting around so that I can never quite catch her. To be brutally honest, looking back, I really don't care for my younger self all that much. She was rather timid. Afraid to be herself. Quiet and reserved, most of the time. She second-guessed herself. Constantly. But her body and face looked a hell of a lot better than this "me" I'm stuck with now.

Screw you, mirror. The younger me had really bad hair. I have proof;) (And truth be told, I think this new me is a heck of a lot more interesting;)). ~Alice

See? (I'm the one on the right;))...

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