What is a Mirror?

What is a mirror?

Some would say it is simply a piece of reflective glass.

Some would give me a more textbook definition like, a reflective surface, now typically of glass coated with a metal amalgam, that reflects a clear image.

My response to that definition would be, what the heck is an amalgam, that sounds like some precious stone some grouchy old dragon is hoarding.

Although, I do find it interesting that a piece of glass that has some reflective metal amalgam on it can hold so much over us.

I mean, a mirror is basically a tool, right?

Now I may be the odd one out, but I don’t find myself picking up a hammer and staring intensely into it looking for some unreadable approval.

I know that’s a weird metaphor, but doesn’t that make it hysterically clear.

Why do we base our days, weeks, months, or even lives off what some tool psychically tells us we look like?

Seriously, is that reflection we see in a mirror truly even us?

Does some metal amalgam have the ability to define us?

I seem to find myself believing that essentially our body, at least the part we see in the mirror is just a glorified meat sack.

I would still be me and you would still be you if we were to trade bodies.

So why let what appears in that mirror dictate your life?

I mean, I could see how a mirror would hold more power if an angry hairy goblin lived in it and its only job was to insult people all day.

But, the only angry goblin living in that mirror is one created by centuries of broken ideals our nations have held.

And, to think about it, is that even the mirrors fault, or is it ours?

So ultimately, this whole long-winded melodrama of an article is to say one thing and one thing only.

Don’t let a tool tell you how much you are worth.

The only tool that can even tell you that is a human one and we all know human tools are just like angry little weasels, weak fluffy balls full of unwarranted hate.

To wrap it all up, tools in general whether they be made of amalgam or flesh a bone, are not worth pining and wallowing over because climactically they don’t define you.

Only you can do that.