By Christopher Munroe
I’ve replaced the ceiling of my bedroom with mirrors.
The walls too.
My quilt and sheet set are now made of reflective material, and I’ve covered what furniature I have with mirrors as well. This way, wherever I look, I can’t escape the vision of myself, reflected back at myself, all the way to infinity.
It’s been suggested that this will drive me mad, and it might. There are days where I feel like it’s driven me mad already…
Nonetheless, it is necessary.
Something, after all, had to be done, to compensate for my own lack of capacity for self-reflection…