Sometimes I feel like writing a book about my life.
Sometimes I feel like being the life of the party.
Sometimes I feel like judging a person based on first impressions.
Sometimes I feel like crawling up into a ball and becoming invisible.
Sometimes I feel like trading in all the good things so that the past is fixed.
(Sometimes I feel like saying what I really mean: I wish he could be here, even if it means me not being here.)
Sometimes I feel like my feelings are invalid.
Sometimes I feel like I am outside looking in.
Sometimes I feel like asking those questions I “shouldn’t”. (And sometimes I do ask.)
Sometimes I feel like putting extra butter on my toast.
Sometimes I feel like helping people who need help.
Sometimes I feel like keeping my mouth shut and letting people create their own destiny.
Sometimes I feel like I am selfish for how I live.
Sometimes I feel like my sister was right about me… a lot more now than I did a year ago, for sure.
Sometimes I feel like being selfless is selfish.
Sometimes I feel like not growing another wizened inch.
Sometimes I feel like making no sense.
Sometimes I feel like I have no one on my side.
Sometimes I feel like too many people are on my side.
Sometimes I feel like I confide misplacedly.
Sometimes I feel like walking in the rain.
Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing.
Sometimes I feel like.

You know?