The Mirrors Are Walls

In some selfies–a lot of them; mine, too–I see this hunger. I don’t see self-confidence and I don’t see arrogance, or, rather, arrogance is a subsidiary, a weak little land-staking, a bleat in a black hole. At heart, it’s fear: “Am I here? Do you really see me? Will I land somewhere safe this time if I remind you that my visage earns its keep? Can this glimpse of my face–my beautiful, hurt, craning face– remind you that I am someone worthy of keeping in your mind’s eye in other moments of the day as well?” What I really see in selfies is this: “Please, God, please. Don’t let me disappear without a trace.” If only we could really feel it, really grasp the truth: We are all, each of us, beloved children of the universe.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy