A Tale of Two Mirrors

Hey, you. Ya you, sexy thing leaning against the wall. What’s that little smile you got there? That smirk and glance you’ve flicked towards us like a cheeky little Fleabag breaking the fourth wall. You got a secret? Is that secret how goddam gorgeous you are? Where’d you come from, huh? I bet you just came from telling a bunch of people what to do, whipping 'em into shape like a boss. One with a firm hand but knows how to treat people well and leaves them thinking, "Goddammit she's right AND I respect her." You're dismantling the power structure and building it up right, into a whole new and revolutionary way of living. Everyone’s gonna want some of it. I do. Stock share, please! What are you drinking there? Wine? An aperitif? Only the good stuff, because why drink anything if it’s not the best? You’re worth it. There you go again, leading the way with that confident attitude of yours. I gotta say, you’ve got a great stance. Can you be attracted to the way someone stands? Let me be the first. The way you hold yourself... wowza. You carry yourself with such grace. Do you know that? Are you aware of your grace? I bet you don’t even notice, you just naturally slip into it. Your presence is innately powerful. You’re like... what are they called... those wooden mermaids that are carved into the bow of ships. All eyes are on you. You are the pinnacle. You are the essence of strength, beauty, and femininity. Not just in image, but in your liveliness and your ability to access the energy of the Earth. God, what it must be like to be you. Oh come on, don’t give me those pouty little lips like you don’t know what I’m talking about. That twinkle in your eye... you must know, at least a bit, how amazing you are. As sad as I am to see you go, you need share this magic with the world. To stay here with me would be a waste, and you're too smart for that. Promise you'll toss that face my way one more time before you go. Damn... you even walk away like a goddess. Go be great—as if you have any other choice.

Hey, you. Ya you, shit stain on the mirror. I wonder how someone shit sideways onto a mirror, but they did, cause there you are. Smeared across, completely out of place. A gross distraction. Could you wipe yourself off and drop into the toilet where you belong? Okay, maybe that was harsh. It’s just kind of... well, what’s the point? You have a face, congratulations, but what is it doing? Nothing, that’s what. Actually, it might be doing too much–of the wrong stuff. No, stop turning from side to side, it’s not going to work. You’re not going to unlock a magic position that you can freeze like a Picasso, only accentuating the good parts. Although rearranging all of these features would at least make you a shocking subject of interest, like a turn-of-the-centurty circus freak, instead of what is currently the equivalent of an elephant's folded knee skin without any of its aged wisdom. Will you cut it out with that tragic look? I get that this is nothing to get excited over but you at least need to pretend not all hope is lost. Straighten up, remove the scowl. You know, fake it. That’s it, fake it. Focus on something else, anything else, because if you’re not looking at your Ziploc-of-mashed-potatoes for bone structure, or thinking about your overwhelming lack of follow-through, no one else will. I know, it’s a hard blow. It’s easy to think you’re special when you’re alone. You only have that chair in the corner to compare yourself to. I’ll give you that, you’re better than the chair. You know what, no, that's a really comfortable chair. It does a great job at the one thing it's supposed to do. What do you do well? That wasn't a dig, nothing is coming to mind. So you might be better than those broken blinds, but the minute you step out the door, it's over. I’ve got three points to get you going and you can infer the rest: disproportionate thigh-to-calf ratio (uh huh, it’s a thing, thanks to you), annoying know-it-all (can you ever just say “yes” or “I don’t know” instead of “ACTUALLY" or "I KNEW THAT BECAUSE”), and the last one will come to me as soon as you... yup, there we go, walk away in shame and avoid confronting this laundry list of disappointments. Go reflect on yourself, because I really don't want to.