One Hundred and Twenty-six, Reflections in Front of Me

My head is split in two, approximately half and half. On one side I see a large doorway leading to a dark place with the kind of clutter that brings you down and keeps your head in the ground. On the other side I see a bright exit lit with the bright glow of the the sun shouting at us from the heavens. The left side has some of that light shown but the dark doorway stands there sinisterly. Metallic appendages crawl over the surface along with a pink-ribboned container holding rock candy. The right side's window continues to shed light onto half of my face showing the branches outside. I see long gashes though, even on this bright side, that show minutes of attention from a canine. Above the images in the right corner, I see in simple letters, "POLARIZED."