sometimes I need to write...the words are all there, hovering, in the imaginary space above my head,and then they are tumbling down and sometimes I have to find a place to put them.
sometimes I just sit in silence. Or at least, in relative quiet. Silence is hard to come by these days.
sometimes I drift off and it takes me a moment to return.
sometimes I really look at people instead of just glancing. I wonder who they are.
sometimes I feel so insecure I can't handle that exact moment with myself...and in another breath I could never imagine being anyone else.
sometimes I need to feel paint on my fingertips and then I cannot wait to wash it off.
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