Sometimes.

Sometimes I love the snow. Like when it makes the night not so dark because it's bouncing light around. And when it falls in huge fluffy flakes, each its own little cloud.  And when it's fresh and clean and white and just...sigh-beautiful.
And sometimes I don't like the snow at all. Like when it takes my warmth without asking.

Sometimes I wear high heels in the kitchen, just so I can reach the top shelf of the cupboards.

Sometimes I feel like my thoughts have too big of an audience, that too many people can hear me thinking. That my brain is too loud. And too transparent. Sometimes I love being see-through.
And sometimes I feel like no one is listening at all. And that I'm opaque and so so quiet. Sometimes, when I feel like a secret, I'm sure I'm fooling myself. And sometimes I don't care. Sometimes I'd rather feel mysterious.

Sometimes I have an endless list of people I can turn to. I feel loved and snuggled and safe inside. I am watched. I am taken care of.
And sometimes I'm the sock behind the drier: forgotten...and a little dusty.

Sometimes I don't wear makeup in public to make sure I still can. To make sure that I'm not taking myself too seriously. To give people a clean face to look at that is not trying to be anything other than what it is.

Sometimes I don't brush my teeth before bed. Gag.

Sometimes I have the best reason to write a song, and it wants to jump out of me. And usually those songs should never be heard by anyone but me. Pain and discomfort are, unfortunately, incredibly inspiring.

Sometimes I get dressed for myself. Sometimes I get dressed for my hubby. Sometimes I just stay in my pyjamas. And sometimes, when no one is home, I'll spend a half an hour or so in nothing at all, just to say that I did.

Sometimes I wish I was famous. Like, singing and dancing famous.

Sometimes I want to talk in an English accent to strangers.

Sometimes I want to introduce myself to everyone in Wal-Mart. I want to hear their stories. And I want to be friends with every single one of them. And give them a hug. And sometimes I just want to move through the crowd invisible and unstopped. Sometimes I wish the checkout lady won't want a conversation.

Sometimes I live in a fairy tale, better than I could have imagined.
Sometimes I wish I lived in a fairy tale.

Sometimes I love sleep. And sometimes I am a little scared of it. Sometimes I think I can make the next day hold off, and time slow down, if I just avoid my pillow.

Sometimes I sing in the car. Really, really loud.

Sometimes I re-live the glory days. Sometimes these are my glory days.

Sometimes I laugh at my own jokes. I may laugh at my jokes all the time.

Sometimes I miss my old dreams. Most of the time I prefer my new ones.

And sometimes...I pretend no one, and everyone, can hear me at the same time. I can say anything I want if both are there to ignore or applaud me.