Reflection of the self

We are born with no knowledge. Not a blank slate but mirrors, they call our senses, angled, ready to reflect what the environment shines on us. Music that comes out of a piano, is not the work of a piano but a reflection of the pianist. One cannot originate without the other.

To understand the angles of our mirrors is to understand our natural capabilities, unique they are, a fingerprint to each, hot wired, ready to shine, with the potential to reflect with all the colors. We choose which we use to reflect, secrets they call those we black out, for selfish they are, if virtue is what we seek.

I can choose to live as a rational egoist, but is that a world, a purpose, I’m willing to die for.

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