Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the vainest of them all?

I stared at myself, my imperfections emboldened above all, my eyes searching for more. I stared at myself. My round red lips, a sealed gate of secrets amidst screeching narrations. My pear-shaped ears, listening the morning songs of birds and makcik cleaners and alarm clocks. My eyebrows, thick and angry, sick and weary. I frowned. My eyes gleamed with deep hope. As deep as the endless Indah Water manhole. So deep it struggles to keep afloat, so deep, so knackered, so hush!

I stared at myself, a silhoutte of light clothed my bare skin revealing hills of flesh and bones and veins. Oriental and olive, yellow but pale. I stretched. Oh the beauty of a boy's innocence lost under growing lumps of manhood. Over time, limbs as smooth as flower stems grew into tree trunks. How time flies, carrying napkin covered innocence. An erection surfaced the thin fabric that bordered shame and propriety. An ambassador of hypocrisy I call them, our morning erections. It stood and stood and stood, I stood and stood and stood. "You are no more an amazement, old friend. You are no more a sensational surprise, old friend. No more no more. You lost this war 3 years ago. Begone and try again tomorrow for you will lose yet another war"

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the vainest of them all?

Surely not I nor him, the person in front of me.

I stared at myself and see no beauty from it. If it is there it is lost to me. "How am I vain when I don't even love myself?" I asked the mirror. The mirror on the wall.

"To leave your body unloved by yourself is the very essence of vainity." The mirror answered. "To leave yourself wither with your thoughts of loss is the very fuel of vainity. To leave yourself undignified with budding warts is the very body of vainity."

"Oh shit! My mirror speaks!"