Sometimes I feel like I was born to be in speakeasies: Listening to jazz, sipping good whiskey feeling it warm and enliven my whole body from my core to my fingertips.
Sometimes I feel like I was born for the islands; born to lay on white sand beaches, listen to reggae, smoke good pungent weed and feel my hips sway in time with the breeze and the waves.
Sometimes I feel I was born to be that rough/tough city girl. Cigarette dangling from red red lips. With a mouth full of dirty quips and a body to sick for description.
Sometimes I feel like that dirty lil’ housewife. All done up in my flirty dress, silk stockings and lacey garters. Serving dinner to my hardworking husband and then fucking him properly on the dining room table.
Sometimes I feel like that loving, nurturing, attentive and sometimes overprotective mother. A lioness among women who is the loudest cheerleader and biggest advocate for her children.
Sometimes I don’t feel like any of these people are the real me and what’s worse I don’t know who I truly am.
Sometimes my five foot nothing frame seems to small to hold all of these personalities in.
Sometimes I worry that if they spill out I might honestly lose my mind.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend so much time reflecting on myself when there are so many causes more worthy of my time.