That night, he came back home after seeing his group of friends. Mostly white people. He remembers what they said that night. A lot of racist bullshits. It was more than usual, and he felt literally sick coming back home.

  
He entered the bathroom, it was dark. The light was broken… He couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror. The mirror was black. And for few seconds, he actually hoped he disappeared. He was afraid to see what was in the mirror. Someone he always tried to hide from others, but mostly from himself.

  
In the dark, the mirror was shattered. Revealing multiple reflections of himself, multiple truths about who he was. He always knew he was multiple, complex. This complexion that his environment never wanted to accept.

  
He never understood why people around him never wanted to see him entirely. See the black man, but also the indie rock fan, the soccer player, the artist, the friend, the lover, the immigrant, the clown, the ghost. He always wondered what they were seeing when looking at him.

  
He realized years after that what they wanted to see in him, was themselves. He turned into the mirror of their own limitations. He became their expansion. He became their strength and let them take his energy and vision away from him.

  
The only moment he was truly himself was in that dark bathroom, in front of the black mirror. Multiple faces, multiple realities, multiple outcomes.

  
He remembered his parents. When they moved to Belgium in the late 80’s. He remembered how they were acting different in front of white people… It was their way to survive a world that was openly violent with them.

  
Now that he is older, he tries to reclaim the past he never had to change his future. He tries to repopulate his memory with new memories and new experiences. But memory is a tricky one. There might be glitches and bugs, and digging in the past always brings unexpected things

  

Add

Easier. Black Mirror - The Eraser, 2020.