I love your writings and you have so many friends. I’ve seen movies so I know what that’s like. The laughter, the applause. The friend who gets too drunk and says everything that everyone’s been thanking, so you thank them.
I dance in my kitchen too. But alone, not in a sad way though. I don’t mind being alone and I’m never really alone. I dance in my kitchen alone so I can smile down at me. There isn’t any worry then, about what the eyes might be seeing or the mind be thinking. I dance to Jimi and the Beatles, the Roots and the Who.
Wondering who I am
Who I am
And the alarm rings and sounds a new day to discover who that is.