What is time if not an illlusion? Convincing me my time will soon meet its conclusion. Even the eyes of the stranger in the mirror, has a light that doesn't seem real. Gazing out like a lazer, penetrating a 24 inch thick plank of steel. I think she despises me for all i have denied. The chance to soar boarders beyond the mysteries of the horizon. Here we stand face to face in a battle of conflicted interest. Not one of us blinking, nor neither of us flinching, just projecting our images of divided intentions. She and I. I and she, locked in another dimension. She's free from time. I'm bound in time. Yet we're both stuck in the middle suspended. Where is our eternal sunshine of a spotless mind? Where reality greets illusion, and illusion greets consciousness, and it all fills the voids of delusion. No one seems the same. Yet everyone remains, so lost in this sphere of confusion. Yet i'm still loving her and she's still loving me and we keep reaching for equal understanding. So for now we just glance in the mirror of chance until we find the root for our solutions. Time can be so charmingly wicked. It keeps cheating me out of myself. It keeps me longing to be more connected to me in hopes that we'll oneday reflect it. The mirror of me. The me in the mirror The reflection of we entwined.