Who knows

Did you ever wonder if you could step outside yourself and look at people?

See them the way other people see them?

Not wrapped up in memories and love, not masked in experiences, not even as someone you know, or knew?

I think it's impossible, because no one sees with virgin eyes.

Everyone wears layers of thoughts and experiences and exposure to a world constantly filling you up with feelings you weren't born with.

No one is who I think they are, or you think they are, or even they think they are.

We are just shimmering polymorphs, depending on who is looking.

To me he is my son. To you he is the kid next door. To the teacher he is the class clown. To the minister he is a nuisance juvenile. To his girl friend he is adorable. To his father he is the future.

But that's not right.

To me he is still my sweet baby. To you he is your child's old playmate. To his teacher he is an idiot savant. To the minister he is the next project. To his girl friend he is a mama's boy. To his father he a disappointment.

But that's not right.

In any given moment it depends on the eyes looking and the brain's moment. It depends on what is needed now. It depends on the history of the eyes looking and the brain's indoctrination.

It's a wonder we ever trust anyone. Especially ourselves, because who knows.