There are times when I don't feel quite like myself. Granted, I don't really know myself yet. I tell myself I do. I paint out my dreams and aspirations, my fears and favourite colours and musicals and actors. Sometimes I wonder if it's all just a trick? As if these things that I think are pieces of me are really just a cover created by my soul to hide the truth of what I think I want to see but really don't have the courage or strength or maturity or maybe even the sanity to accept.
Perhaps I'm only aware of this when I have moments like now; when I don't feel like myself. As if I'm to know how I should feel anyway?