It's just a mirror.

Just a shiny piece of reflective glass.

And yet sometimes, it's everything.

It projects to us what we actually see, what we long to see and what we wish we didn't see. It's a state of mind; it's disturbingly real. It's there and remains a phantasmagoria of sorts, modifying itself to suit our mentality. It depends on how we allow ourselves to view it.

We depend so heavily on it. We awake, haul ourselves to the bathroom and greet our reflection. Sometimes we smile, sometimes we scowl. Other times, we simply ignore it for the image of ourselves is already so clearly emblazoned in our mind. Maybe we don't want to look for we won't have to obsess and nitpick over every individual flaw if we aren't aware of them to begin with.

It'll define you, if you let it. These mirrors. If you let it whisper what's wrong with you and the various ways you could improve it can tear you apart. It can control you.

We spend countless minutes, hours, years in front of these mirrors. Pampering ourselves within an inch of perfection or at least hoping to reach such levels. A presentable level, at the very least.

For some, it turns into an obsession. Being able to smile at our reflection, be wholly satisfied. And until we are, we'll strive to be better. Strive to meet our image's expectations. That's only some of us, remember. Others know who they are, are comfortable with it. Accept it. One may never be truly able to accept what greets them in the mirror. Think that if they looked just a bit better, they'd be able to enjoy life more. And perhaps that's the thing that really keeps them from living.

It's just a mirror.

Just a shiny piece of reflective glass.

And yet sometimes, it's everything.