washing my hands and face, I look up at the mirror and see someone i barely recognize. an older version of me, a bit untidy, with a half-grown beard who looks as though he has given up somewhat. on caring about how the world perceives him or how others might access his value. someone that is a bit tired as he eases through the middle years of a life given too him. but he does care, look at how he fixes his hair, checks his teeth. the t-shirt was also choreographed. he cares and he does not care. he yearns, but not enough. or is it just enough, i look down with uncertainty. with little choice to change.

once you know it, you have lost it. in each objective, each object placed in front of us, when we get what we want we let it go. or hide it. the chase, the idea of catching something, then letting it go but knowing you can catch it. to breathe and let go again, to fight, win then move on. practice for that test, for the approval, get it and enjoy the moment. climb the mountain, stand on top, climb down. get the ribbon, catch the prize, then what.

one of my worries is that i have simply been climbing hills, but to some a hill is a mountain. i look deeper into my eyes and convince myself that our aspirations differ, our goals vary, none more right, none less wrong. my contemporaries are moving about their own way. climbing ladders they have leaned against walls, pulling others up with them. leaving others below. i count my winnings in my head, judge my looks while feeling i am not looking at me but at someone i might one day know. i read back these words in the same manner. impressions of what i best guess i am.