I wrote this for you. Yes, you. If I am reading this, that means me. It is a reminder: break syntax and punctuate in cadence. The indomitable animal in all of us is something we share with the smallest of things. There is hunger and a will to live in the myriad expressions of the universe, observing itself. While I can't know the meaning of these words entirely, here they are. For you. Now, listen: by this act you are both setting thought into a fixed state, and by that act, changing the thought itself. Whatever my meaning is is now unhinged in the selfless void, until the word is read and the meaning is mended. And for each of you reading this it is reassembled a different mix of memory and idea, put back together in similar, yet incredibly different ways. This is context for sake of context.
There is a bumper sticker somewhere that says now is the only thing that is eternal. Like love, this might be universal, though you might not think there is proof of that. Someone might, maybe even I will. Pardon the apparent paradox. I write for now and for later; I will change but these words will still be here, like a digital ghost.
Consider this: when you put a mirror to a mirror you have an endless reflection. Once, in a bathroom mirror, I gazed in wonder at this simple illusion of infinity. To this end, self-reflection is a hyphenated phrase with changing currents of context. It is first an introspective mirror, by method or process. The information age is a hall of mirrors. It is a lot of things. In the digital landscape, in tiny boxes suspended in light, self-reflection is visible beyond self, and reflexive. Like I, myself, it is grammatical, though the language might not seem familiar to you.