A bit of creative writing I did at a session with Fareham and Gosport Mind. Ten minutes of non stop writing about the above mentioned title. I was quite pleased with myself at the end.
A life not remembered. Reflections are the same but none to recognise you. How awful. To not have existed in the minds of friends and family. I can barely stand the thought. Rather suddenly not remembered and know that you meant something to someone else. At least you left some kind of mark in a way. It’s beautiful to know that maybe you made someone smile or even lead a better life because of something you did. Even better does it feel that they know who. When images wither and reflections fade, there will at least still be the memory. What makes that mark so special? It certainly is special to me. The feeling of purpose. No day is happier than a day I can make another smile. But would it be the same if I knew that person would not know it is me? That the image he sees does not match the reflection I see in the mirror. And does it? Do I see myself as others see me? Who knows? I cannot see through another’s eye, nor can they see what I see. Not really. Never really. What if my reflection is the wrong one? What if it is a muddled puddle, rippling water, not true to reality? And what is reality mirrored in a mirror? Mirrored in the head of another?