Reflection; the act of wondering if our existence is smaller or larger than the space between ( ) parentheses;
that narcissistic, superficial image
projected back to our corneas
that does not reflect all those intertwined, intermingled
inflections and rejections and interjections (!) that make us who we are,
(human)?

that contemplation (of temptation), evaluation, speculation, recalibration of who/whatwhy (WHY) we are,
of life,
addressing Death, if we could but walk weightless on the water of the River Styx,
what exactly we would do if we were to arrive with a coinless mouth, if we could evoke pity from Charon,
(much less evoke pity from THEM)
to reflect on the events-to-come during the ferrying between the world of the living and that of the dead

Reflection_ the act of knowing if your existence is smaller or larger than the space ( ) between parentheses;
to assess our morals, our morality, our mortality,
|daily fatalities|
to ruminate the effects that the deaths of people, of an ideal, of chivalry, of GOD, of democracy,
of the Freudian idegosuperego (MYSELF), of feeling (PATHOS, WHERE HAS IT GONE)
would have on you without the distraction of THEIR neon lights and sins and Cheshire cat grins

to ruminate just for the sake of arriving at the conclusion:
that loose lips sink (relation)ships (where did you go WRONG?)
that the only way to never get hurt
is to burn your Bridges (of Sighs) before they are even built (where did you go RIGHT?)
to ponder and wonder, to imagine yourself a nihilist in a Fourier utopian world
to imagine yourself an idealist in a Nietzsche pointless world, to wonder and ponder and then,

then WHAT? the point, the crux of the matter? what is the REASON for my existence?
that all too human si fallor, sum?
a perpetual reminder of my inescapable imperfection as an ignorant human,
a result of a just as ignorant bite of an apple?
a validation of my mistakes? our life, her life, his life, their life, your life,
MY BEING cannot be defined by flaws (!) it just ' cannot

cogito, ergo sum
to think (therefore, I am) that's it, yes,
that has always been the point, a validation of my EXISTENCE,
waiting for me, for me to delve,
to dive and to swim past the waters of my conscious, my subconscious,
waiting patiently with open arms for me to find it and return to it.

Reflection: the act of deciding
for myself
whether I want my existence to be smaller
or larger than the space
between parentheses
( )