Perception

Take a passport-sized photograph of yourself, yes that same one with the fake half-smile that you put on your face just to get the photographer to shut up with his incessant 'smile please', and in which the honest, sincere look in your eyes can be easily mistaken for that peculiar expression which makes itself visible when you're locked in a life-and-death struggle with three days of constipation and you're carefully contemplating that final desperate measure: lubrication. Now invert the picture such that the image is upside down. Please observe how, at first glance, your nose suddenly appears as an excellent pencil-holder and the image looks like a quaint bald man with an asymmetric beard who's been a victim of divine comedy as regards the placement of his facial features. Now hide the nose, mouth and chin of the image with your thumb and for a moment, forget that its your picture, forget that it's been inverted and forget that you're a moron for being doing this in the first place, and concentrate on the eyes. Look at them in a detached manner, as if you've never looked at them before, as if you don't want to look at them either. Are they not the most hideous, unworldly, cruel-looking pair of eyes that you have ever seen? Eyes hovering above black platters that seem to have been placed there merely for added effect. And they say a man's eyes are a window into his soul. But is a window not supposed to show the same view whichever way you look at it? Nonetheless, if you fail to see this as such, you need to alter your perceptions. For doing that, you might want to introduce yourself to Lucy.