Some days I think I’m a revolutionary. Some days I think I’m a failure. Some days I think I’m a genius, and some days I think I’m a dunce. Some days I yearn for the stage, while some days I hide in my bed. Some days I wish for stardom, and some days I wish for simplicity. Some days I consider myself a front runner, and some days I consider myself a waster. Some days I am proud of those I love, some days I am jealous. Some days I pour with joy and ease, and some days I leak fear and hate. Some days I don’t need to explain myself, some days I answer every unanswered question. Some days I laugh at my missteps, some days I cry. Some days I feel as free as bird, some days I feel I clipped my wings. Some days I think I’m perfect as I am, some days I think there’s so much to change. Some days I love my body, and some days I am sickened by what I see. Some days I want more, some days I want to ruin what I have. Some days I’m my own number one fan, some days I send myself death threats. Some days I’m Sam Morris, and some days I’m Sam Morris.