Waking up at 3:30 AM means I went to bed at 9 PM. Between the silence and coffee, ideas are born. But today, nothing comes to mind. Have my springs already dried up? I wonder. I sent an SOS to someone whose character captivated me so much that I decided to call him 'older brother.' I asked him for a topic. He texted back with the topic: "Mirror."

Hmm...!!!

A mirror...

It is so broad. Where do I even begin? A factual entity that reflects the inner self? Camera Obscura? There is so much to write about metaphorically that my mind is in chaos.

Since I am a photographer, to speak of mirrors in a photographic sense, an image reflected through a mirror was developed into a photograph using chemicals. It was a monumental invention that changed world history. As for the extent of that history and what further changes are yet to come, I am in the dark. In my house, there is only a mirror in the bathroom at a height just tall enough to see my face; there are no other mirrors. Perhaps because of this, I do not know what my body looks like. Before heading out, I leave without knowing how my clothes look on me or how stylish they make me appear. Because the thing meant for me to look at myself only reflects my face, it makes me care only about my face. It is the area that requires the most attention. The face. I have to pay attention to it because I am conscious of others. Since a person's face is what gets imprinted in the minds of others, it is the part that draws the most concern. The face. There is also such a thing as physiognomy, so a face can speak volumes about a person. The face.

Every morning, observing the changes of several decades, I comfort myself by saying, "I still look alright." Life is not easy without self-justification. Only when you nicely package your changed appearance will others acknowledge you. The words spoken by the mirror, which reflects all of this back without any prejudice, are sincere. However, due to cunning self-justification, I cannot look at myself straight on. The mirror knows just how oblique my mind is and how cold reality is, but I do not.

Time flows on, ticking away like a pendulum in a state of delusion—tick, tock, tricking myself. Today, tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that...

I cry out every single day that I am searching for myself, yet every single day I step one pace closer to the cliff's edge of life. I am right there in the mirror in front of me, so where am I wandering off to find myself? Vain words and writings take root in my head, bending the straight lines. There was a time when I was seduced by those words and writings, and my tongue performed tricks, but now even that is transforming into a sense of futility.

The mirror... my reflection showing my truth. Whether I like it or not, it is always right in front of me.