Look in the mirror. See that person there? You think that is just one person looking back? Look into those eyes looking into your eyes. Stare hard. Wait for the melting away of edges, loss of borders, wait for all to fade but eyes then BAM! that’s you. That’s who you are. And that feeling? Felt it, did you? You found another you in there. A you you don’t often see. More than one. Multiple, really, you are simultaneously you and you and also you sharing one body that is itself an illusion of singularity. You co-exist with yourself, and without full integration. I don’t mean public and private parts of yourself. Look in the mirror again. Or look into other eyes; use them as mirrors. Every one you see (I say one, but they are all multiplicities too) reflects back a version of yourself. All those strangers are familiar parts of yourself. And look at your beloved. Go ahead, look into those eyes until all else is gone. See that? That’s you, looking back. You are surrounded by yourself, isolated into a temporality of your own experience. And who are you? Go ahead tell me. Tell us all. We’ll only hear versions of you which reflect versions of ourselves. What does this mean? Well, you tell me. It is the self alone who can make meaning, and only for the self. And what might be insensible to me might be meaningful to you. Who are you? You are me. Who am I? I am you. Who am I? I am God. Who are you? Well. Well, well. You go look in your mirror honey.
“I am large… I contain multitudes.”
and the sea shall claim them