Eye Le(v)el

I woke up this morning and as I manuevered my way into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror & my reflection disappointed me.

This usually happened in my teen years when I had some crazy dream that I'd awake looking like Morris Chestnutt or whomever was the latest & greatest black man that moved women into a frenzied trance of emotion. The let down was always made manifest as a red zit somwhere on my face. Nothing like a little harmonial imbalance to re-introduce reality into the situation.

This morning there was no zit or blackhead to take what little wind that was available out of my lungs as my palms were shocked into action by the cold porcelain face bowl where my all of my morning ritual(s) take place. The morning had long since made itself known, I was bit tardy in my salutations. For the first time I looked into my own eyes, covered in infamous morning crust, you the crust that one kid still had on his face at lunch time. If we'd known how rough his mornings really were, we probably would've been a bit more understanding. As I removed that crust away from eyes I took a deep look at the face those eyes rested in and I stepped back slowly in disbelief. I saw my parents in my face, clearly like their faces had been blended into my own. The face that I own was clearly inherited, without death.

I've always been proud of my parents and while I haven't always understood them, they've always had my support. In return, I merely wanted to look like a blending of them but not a clear carbon copy of them both. This morning my dad's chin clef and my mom's crows feet were allover my face. It was though they were working my face together and which ever part he didn't supply she immediately produced, leaving nothing to natural selection.

I couldn't be happier with the end result.