In every mirror, blunt judgment, I observe a vision of me that I can't even imagine. Eyes, face, mouth, nose... They're as usual, just a little old. The silent part of my body rests calmly and apparently in a balanced and justified context. But in paying attention to my gaze is when you see a universe in duel, brittle, that from so much looking inside has lost the vividness of other days. This gray aura that obscures my eyes in the morning with smiles and in this strange paradox that is the reflection I try to distance myself from agony and disappointment and discover myself, alive and broken, before the challenge of being, without further lies.
