After reading 'The Prestige' - a story of a rivalry between two magicians living and performing in England at the end of XIXth century - the question appeared in my head. How certain can you be about anything if you're surrounded by illusion? Every day, everywhere we go, we put on one of our masks - a fair employer, an enthusiastic employee, an interested listener, a competent storyteller, a good parent, a better partner, the best friend. It is not done for any immediate or obvious profit, it's just the human nature. There's secrets to keep, feelings to hide, roles to play. Reality is shifty like a smoke in the mirror.
So we act the best we can cause there's no other way to hide our own confusion. Oh yes, there's young kids who didn't master the art of illusion yet and there's these poor fools who try to always be 'themselves' whatever it means. But for the most of your life you are on the stage performing one of your selves to the uninterested audience of same home made performers. Life is but smoke and mirrors.
So when you look in your small bathroom mirror after another tiring day, who do you see?
