Holy shit.
Most of the time
Most of the time, I'm laughing.
Most of the time, I'm strong.
Most of the time, I'm capable.
Most of the time, I'm sane.
Most of the time, I'm shiny and clever.
But sometimes...sometimes...I'm just me. The real me.
Sometimes I get sick of the show.
Sometimes the sadness takes over.
Sometimes I wish I was as shiny inside as I am outside.
Silly? Maybe. I'm not crying for help, or being dramatic...just honest.
Sometimes I need help.
I value control, probably more than I should. When I feel it slipping through my fingers, I panic.
I'm panicking.
But when you see me next, I won't be. I'll be clever and strong and shiny once again. Because it's just so much easier to pretend that everything's going to be okay than to face the reality that it might not be.
The show must go on, no?
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