Are we really who we think we are?

I chanced upon a rushing mirror who danced along with all the urgency of an early summer's wind, a serene creature whose silver surface seemed to only focus on reaching the sea. In its tail I saw a human, whose hair was the same colour as mine, whose nose and mouth breathed the same air I did, whose eyes captured my every memory. They were someone who I recognised, indeed they are who I am just not who I considered myself to be. Sometimes, I lose myself becoming fixated on who I was and what I had done not what I am doing nor who I was now. Every so often, I find it helpful to find somewhere dark and silent and, just briefly, think. The mirror flows on cascading over rocks and toppled trees, smothering my face in frothing bubbles.