1988 BMW E30 M3

My toes hung over the edge of the curb, knowing that they would be fine provided everyone follows the rules, but then again, not everyone does. The rest of my body stood where it should, waiting. In those weighted moments, my eyes could not help but stare at the various versions of myself reflected back by the influx of passing cars. The inconsistency of the images, not only in the frequency, but in shape as well, was due to the different models of cars moving in front of me. Each car that passed presented a version of myself that was both familiar and unknown; they all had similar attributes as the body hanging over the curb, but each version was distorted and manipulated in some sort of unique way. I realized that these were only reflections I was seeing, but they represented the different perceptions derived from other people and the change in insights despite them all having the same source, me.
Although I may distort myself to appear more pleasant on the reflections of the other cars, at the end of the day, invariably the cars will no longer drive by, my feet will hit the sidewalk, and I will walk across the street empty of distorted reflections, and possessing only what I wish to carry from one side of the street to the other.

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