Looking into the mirror

Looking into the mirror, what do I see?
I see, I am water,
as if I am occupying three-fourth of the planet,
existing in three phases;
switching from one to the other.
I am ordered, often a jumble of disorder.
I see I am floating upon myself.
I see I am shrinking, and also expanding.
I am transparent, tasteless, colourless,
often unrecognizable.
I see me drowning.
Often, I get rescued, often I get drowned.
I look like a bird, a bird from the woods.
Looking into the mirror
I look like a bird in a cage, and my wings are clipped.
Often, I fly in the soaring sky.
I see a virtuous me, a vicious me,
cooperative, also competitive,
often a prey, often a predator,
often neural, often mechanical.
I feel good when I see a mirror turning into a window.