14. Dirty Mirror, Don’t Care

Jun 27

I'm learning not to care about how things turn out.
The result is not my business.
The mirror has smudges.
I leave them.
Proof I was here.
Dirty mirror, don't care.

[VERSE 1]
I couldn't leave the house without "putting my face on."
Polish my skin for every pair of eyes.
I still scan faces for signs of disappointment.
The shoulds and shouldn'ts.
Their opinion is a condition.
Conditions are outside of my control.
The past throws a hook.
I feel the tug. I just stop biting.
Now I clean my mirror once a week.
I leave the mess in-between.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I ask myself,
"Is that a helpful thought?"
I care about feeling good.
I let go of the conditions.

[CHORUS]
Dirty mirror, I don't care — I drop the need to be seen.
I see myself.
I don't care.
The glass has fingerprints from yesterday's tears.
I don't care.
I see myself well enough.
I don't care.

[VERSE 2]
I'm finally putting my energy where it matters.
The old weight dissolves. The grief passes.
Freedom stays.
I climb the mountain of my dead selves.
The view is worth the corpses.
The noise from outside loses its volume.
I turn the dial inward.
Opinions pass through me. No need to hold it.
My desire matters.
I release the tests of oaths and abstentions.
The war is internal.

[PRE-CHORUS]
I ask myself,
"Is that a helpful thought?"
I care about feeling good.
I let go of the conditions.

[BRIDGE]
I ease my attention away from the outcome.
The voice in my head can talk to itself.
Life lives.
I live.
My reflection blurs
at the edges —
I like the softness.

[CHORUS]
Dirty mirror, I don't care.
I drop the need to be seen.
I see myself.
I don't care.
The glass has fingerprints from yesterday's tears.
I don't care.
I see myself well enough.
I don't care.

[OUTRO]
The past is over. It has no power over me.
The future comes as it comes.
The glass holds my face and the dust.
Dirty mirror,
don't care.

Loui Crow

I make music, practice mirror work, sometimes I do somatic rage fits, and small forms of magick that help me stay present and kind while things change.

I write songs for myself, my inner child, and for the woman I am becoming.
I work through old patterns, grief, and survival habits as I notice them loosening.

Sometimes I write as the Crow — that's my ideal self. Direct, unattached, protective, grounded in something older than my fear. Other voices come through too. The snake. The spider. The fly. The ghosts are the false selves I created to survive. I write as all of them, for my own self-hypnosis — unpacking who I've been so that my son can fill his days with joy and I can stop being such a reactive parent. I'm in the middle of it all. I just keep showing up.

I use Suno for vocals and instrumentals — the vocals are seeded from my own voice. I'm a disabled veteran and a stay-at-home mom.

Over the last year, I climbed an emotional ladder I didn't know I was on. Many of my earlier releases were the scream — my depression, anger, insecurity.

The last album that came out of that climb is called "Mirror, Mirror off the Wall." It starts with depression and ends with gratitude.

Much of what lives here carries the influence of Louise Hay and Abraham Hicks, especially the idea that my body listens to my thoughts — and that where I place my attention, my life follows.

I leave breadcrumbs in case anyone resonates.

Take what feeds you.
Leave the rest for the birds.

I am molting.
You are welcome here.

https://louicrow.com

14. Dirty Mirror, Don’t Care

13. Surprises and Delights

15. Let The Answer Arrive

louicrow@gmail.com