The Mirror Lies

Remember when I mentioned that I had once embarked upon writing a screenplay and failed miserably so I threw it out?  Well, that was only the first one.  I've written, or at least thought out with such detail that I can recite to you, a few more.  There's one in particular, that stands out, for a film I've invented and which I've named, The Mirror Lied.  Basically, in my imagination, it's a pseudo-documentary, in-depth look at a girl who develops anorexia and has her life spiral out of control as her weight gets lower and lower and her being becomes more and more focused solely on this one aspect of her life.  It's harrowing.  I've got it cast and everything, which probably makes me sound weird.  The title comes from one conversation she has with her boyfriend, in the scene where they break up (spoiler alert!), and it's actually my favourite scene.  He's the one who actually drops the line, when he's trying, desperately, to get her out of her ana fixation (uh, good luck with that, buddy), and I thought it was brilliant.  Sometimes things just come out of the blue.

Anyway.

I've hesitated about posting this song, and this post, because it paints me kind of crazy (the post more than the song, perhaps).  But also, I think, speaks to the fundamental truth that our brain, and our thoughts, has some wicked power over us.  Because it has the power to change our perception of fact, and skew our own ideas, and twist our own self-presentation.  One's mind is not unassailable or infallible, which is scary in itself, especially because it feels as though it is, most of the time (which is as it should be - let's not start doubting our own reality just yet).

Take the mirror, for example.  I don't know about you, but I hate the mirror.  To me, it's an actual living, breathing thing with a life of its own, but really, the reflection one sees is a figment of self-perception.  You don't see the truth, because you see what your own mind is projecting upon you.  Your mind applies to the reflection blinking back at you what it wants to believe: you see what you want to see, what you want to perceive, whether or not it is actually what the mirror is showing you.  Like, you're finding excuses to not find anything good in what you see, because it's easier not to believe the mirror, because accepting yourself is hard.  Therefore, it's not the mirror that lies - it's you.  I'm just using it as a useful metonym, a poetic and functional use of metonymy in the lyrical sphere.

In many ways, as I was writing this song I became completely paranoid about my reflection felt as though I was writing the single most important song of my catalog.  It became crucial for me to phrase things in a way that would not be judgmental, or unkind, or unsympathetic.  I had to dwell on the fact that the word "I" would only appear once, in the second line, to convey understanding and sympathy (as in, "I've been there, I understand, don't worry"), but so as not to make the song about me.  There's that continual, underlying sense of comprehension on the part of the narrator, but it's not overpowering (I hope), and it's more to engender confidence than to presumptuously overlook anyone who might be affected by the song.

Because, let me tell you, I primarily embarked upon the writing of this song because I was both pissed off by (forgive the language) and disenchanted with the current trend in country music to make songs that are supposed to be, I can only presume, self-empowering to girls.  Take, for example, "Don't You Know You're Beautiful," by Kellie Pickler.  The song is cute, and catchy, and it was a huge hit back in 2009, or whenever it was released.  But to me, I hate the title, and the presentation of the idea - it almost seems to me as though there's a bit of an accusatory tone (you don't know you're beautiful? well, that's your fault, then.).  I bristle under the idea that people would do things to themselves even if they thought they were beautiful.  I can't stress enough that sometimes they just can't see it.  So, I wanted to write a song that would help someone see it, not force someone to acknowledge it when s/he doesn't believe it.  You know, you give in just because someone is so insistent and you feel like a fool when you still don't understand, but you say yes just to get that person off your back.  (I really hope I'm making sense.)  But the song that really got me was "Nobody Ever Told You," on Carrie Underwood's new album.  I think we can all acknowledge that she is gorgeous.  And I reckon people tell her that all the time.  I also reckon she believe it many times over, the way she carries on.  So, that's no problem for her.  But the song is steeped in condescension, and that really annoyed me.  Lines like, "wish you could see yourself the way I do," more often than not hear me arguing back.  You don't know me, Carrie.  How do you know what I look like?  How do you know how I see myself?  Also, just because you're so pretty doesn't mean that people haven't told other people that they're pretty, too.  It's not a one-person thing.

So, I hate that song.  It's damn catchy, but the lyrics are not particularly helpful.  Not empowering.

And thus I set out to write my own song, one that if I were to listen to it, would help me.  But don't worry, five and a half years ago, I was told I'm beautiful via disinterested text message, so I'm good.  But you know, for others who doesn't have that to carry with them for eternity (btw, I don't know how well bitterness translates into the blog format), I wanted to write a song that would give someone to understand that what s/he is feeling is not something which alienates him or her.  Something that someone can take with him or her, and use to come around and gradually do away with the barriers and the unwillingness to accept the mirror, and accept oneself.

I have no idea if I succeeded.  But somewhere around the third verse, I got goosebumps because I felt the song change into something greater than it was originally meant to be.  Granted, I was also really cold at the time, but why let the facts get in the way of a good story?

This is also the song I would use, if my film were ever produced, as the original song.  In my mind, it'll win an Academy Award.

The Mirror Lies

a reflection is in the eye of the beholder
trust me, I know this a little too well
lately, your eye has grown much colder
you looked in the mirror, and your face fell

when is the last time you saw yourself smile?
hesitation inside has built up your fears
an uncertain mind holds its own desperate trial,
and a fragile heart believes what it hears

CHORUS:
but don't listen to that voice inside you, calling you names
you don't have to be so good at losing mind games
if you can't see anything nice, no matter how hard you try
you don't have to feel bad, 'cause the mirror lies

the looking-glass is its own grand deception,
you're at the mercy of your disbelief
and you can't trust your own reflection
because it's both a seducer, and a thief

so you protect yourself by trying to hide
but it's your own thoughts you're fleeing
you can't turn away from an unforgiving mind
'cause it's your own thoughts you're seeing

CHORUS:
but don't listen to that voice inside you, calling you names
you don't have to be so good at losing mind games
if you can't see anything nice, no matter how hard you try
you don't have to feel bad, 'cause the mirror lies

BRIDGE:
you're finding excuses to avert your eyes
what are you afraid of,
what do you think you'll see?
it's not your fault the mirror lies

you get less disillusioned as you get older
and what you see changes with every blink
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
so what does it matter what others may think?

CHORUS:
so don't listen to that voice inside you, calling you names
you don't have to be so good at losing mind games
if you can't see anything nice, no matter how hard you try,
you don't have to feel bad, 'cause the mirror lies

there's a part of you, that knows it's just not true,
because the mirror lies...

For a while, I contemplated not putting the chorus after the final verse, but then I think it kind of ties it all nicely back in.  What do you think?

Much love, and thank you for the musik,

Just Another Ordinary Girl

The truth about a mirror is that a damned old mirror don't really tell the whole truth: it don't show what's deep inside, or read between the lines, and it's really no reflection of my youth.

p.s.  I really, really, really wish it were Thursday instead of Wednesday.  I need it to be tomorrow.  That could be the start of the end of the mirror's falsehoods.  But I'm also really good at making a fool of myself, so hooray.  New song on that topic coming soon.  I've already got the chorus, and the rest of it fairly writes itself.