My mirror which has devoutedly stood in front of my bed, witnessing every embarrassing moment of my life has had enough. It's been holding in the shade, the judgment, the silent commentary for far too long. But today? Oh today, the universe gave it the green light to finally speak up and roast me like I deserve —"YOU KNOW WHAT? LET’S LET THIS MIRROR SPILL THE TEA!"
Mirror : Oh, so now you wanna look at me? Interesting. Because all week you have been treating me like an unpaid intern, only glancing at me for two seconds before running out the door as if you are escaping a crime scene. But let's not pretend here, okay? I see everything. Every questionable outfit choice, every bad hair day, you thought "wasn't that bad." (Gives an evil smile, smirking mischievously)Sweetie, IT WAS THAT BAD. You really left the house looking like that? Bold move.
And now let's talk about those "graceful" moments of yours. The burping? Classy. The farting? Oh an absolute symphony. I should start selling concert tickets. ( Laughs wickedly, rolling eyes). You sleep like a crime scene victim, btw — one leg hanging off, mouth wide open, sometimes even talking to ghosts in your sleep. Who are you arguing with at 3 AM? I NEED TO KNOW. And that "quick nap" that turned into a 5-hour coma? I witnessed it.
But you know what truly scars me? The sudden panic you go into when you realize you are running late. One second you are scrolling on your phone like time doesn't exist, and the next it's chaos. Clothes flying, weird grunts of frustration, and that tragic moment when you try to fix your hair like it's not already a lost case. Babe, I love you, but no amount of adjusting is capable of fixing that disaster on your head.
Oh and let's not forget the crying sessions. One minute you are hyping yourself up, giving me "main character energy", and the next you are staring at me like I personally ruined your life. Girl, I didn't dump you. I didn't make your tea spill. Why are you blaming me?
At this point I deserve a raise. Or at least a deep clean. Maybe a little cleaning spray could help. A little respect? Just saying.
Me: (Dramatically wipes tears from my cheeks, eyes glistening with raw emotion) You...you have been there through it all. Through my highs and lows, and my fashion crimes. You never left my side. I treated you like an object, but you? You were my silent witness, my most loyal companion. (voice breaks )How could I have been so blind?
Runs in slow motion towards the mirror, arms outstretched, ready to embrace the only one who truly understands me.
Mirror: (throws up an imaginary hand ) STOP. NO more drama. I can't do this today. I am EXHAUSTED. I've been working overtime, absorbing all your nonsense. And honestly? I need therapy. Or at least some glass cleaner. Also you do realize you are talking to your own reflection, right? Babe... this is NOT a movie.
Me: (sniffles) So you are saying... I mean nothing to you?"
Mirror: Oh my god. Here we go, someone get the Oscars ready. Look I love you, but if you don’t step back, I'm gonna have to fog myself up just to get a break from this emotional meltdown.
Me: (sobs harder) Even when you are mean, you tell the truth!
Mirror: AND YET YOU STILL DRESS LIKE A SLEEP-DEPRIVED POTATO WHO LOST A FIGHT WITH THE LAUNDRY BASKET. I AM A MIRROR, NOT A FAIRY GODMOTHER. STOP EXPECTING ME TO FIX THIS TRAGEDY!
(Pauses, noticing the tears with a reluctant sigh)
Mirror : Fine, fine, go ahead and cry your eyes out. I’ll be here for the drama, as always. Just don’t expect me to clean up the mess... or your face.
And don’t even think I’m going soft. You still dress like a sad potato.(pauses again, then gives a thunderous evil smile)
But hey, you’ve got me, right? The only one who truly sees through your whole act. Go on, keep crying—at least it’s more entertaining than your "I’m fine face." (smirks wickedly) "Sweetie, this fight’s far from over."
P.S.: Anyone else getting roasted by their stuff, or are we all ignoring the fact that our socks are plotting against us? Go ahead, spill your thoughts—I’m all ears... and my phone too. *WINKS*
Mirror : Oh, so now you wanna look at me? Interesting. Because all week you have been treating me like an unpaid intern, only glancing at me for two seconds before running out the door as if you are escaping a crime scene. But let's not pretend here, okay? I see everything. Every questionable outfit choice, every bad hair day, you thought "wasn't that bad." (Gives an evil smile, smirking mischievously)Sweetie, IT WAS THAT BAD. You really left the house looking like that? Bold move.
And now let's talk about those "graceful" moments of yours. The burping? Classy. The farting? Oh an absolute symphony. I should start selling concert tickets. ( Laughs wickedly, rolling eyes). You sleep like a crime scene victim, btw — one leg hanging off, mouth wide open, sometimes even talking to ghosts in your sleep. Who are you arguing with at 3 AM? I NEED TO KNOW. And that "quick nap" that turned into a 5-hour coma? I witnessed it.
But you know what truly scars me? The sudden panic you go into when you realize you are running late. One second you are scrolling on your phone like time doesn't exist, and the next it's chaos. Clothes flying, weird grunts of frustration, and that tragic moment when you try to fix your hair like it's not already a lost case. Babe, I love you, but no amount of adjusting is capable of fixing that disaster on your head.
Oh and let's not forget the crying sessions. One minute you are hyping yourself up, giving me "main character energy", and the next you are staring at me like I personally ruined your life. Girl, I didn't dump you. I didn't make your tea spill. Why are you blaming me?
At this point I deserve a raise. Or at least a deep clean. Maybe a little cleaning spray could help. A little respect? Just saying.
Me: (Dramatically wipes tears from my cheeks, eyes glistening with raw emotion) You...you have been there through it all. Through my highs and lows, and my fashion crimes. You never left my side. I treated you like an object, but you? You were my silent witness, my most loyal companion. (voice breaks )How could I have been so blind?
Runs in slow motion towards the mirror, arms outstretched, ready to embrace the only one who truly understands me.
Mirror: (throws up an imaginary hand ) STOP. NO more drama. I can't do this today. I am EXHAUSTED. I've been working overtime, absorbing all your nonsense. And honestly? I need therapy. Or at least some glass cleaner. Also you do realize you are talking to your own reflection, right? Babe... this is NOT a movie.
Me: (sniffles) So you are saying... I mean nothing to you?"
Mirror: Oh my god. Here we go, someone get the Oscars ready. Look I love you, but if you don’t step back, I'm gonna have to fog myself up just to get a break from this emotional meltdown.
Me: (sobs harder) Even when you are mean, you tell the truth!
Mirror: AND YET YOU STILL DRESS LIKE A SLEEP-DEPRIVED POTATO WHO LOST A FIGHT WITH THE LAUNDRY BASKET. I AM A MIRROR, NOT A FAIRY GODMOTHER. STOP EXPECTING ME TO FIX THIS TRAGEDY!
(Pauses, noticing the tears with a reluctant sigh)
Mirror : Fine, fine, go ahead and cry your eyes out. I’ll be here for the drama, as always. Just don’t expect me to clean up the mess... or your face.
And don’t even think I’m going soft. You still dress like a sad potato.(pauses again, then gives a thunderous evil smile)
But hey, you’ve got me, right? The only one who truly sees through your whole act. Go on, keep crying—at least it’s more entertaining than your "I’m fine face." (smirks wickedly) "Sweetie, this fight’s far from over."
P.S.: Anyone else getting roasted by their stuff, or are we all ignoring the fact that our socks are plotting against us? Go ahead, spill your thoughts—I’m all ears... and my phone too. *WINKS*
Toilet s behaving a lil bratty.
