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And who is looking out at you?When I look in a mirror, that in itself seems to me to be
a view from an alternate universe.
The man in the mirror is the real me and I am his reflection. I look like him but I am not him. I don't mean to copy his every move it just happens. I wonder what his life is like. He seems like he's found something. He lives his own way. He knows who he is. What he wants. Where he's going. There's something different about him. Something I like. I'm not sure how to describe it. I'd like to walk in his shoes. Breathe his air. But he's happy to let me be with him a while. He's always there when I take a look. I appreciate that.