I'm really good at being the person that other people need me to be; at saying exactly what is needed or expected, or shaping my face into the form that is required for the mood of the conversation. But there are times when the truth slips from my lips in strong rivulets, feeling hot and flowing like blood or something vital, needing to find it's place in the world and come out from that dark place I've been keeping it locked up in. My mouth moves of its own accord and I don't need to think or plan as I speak, I just urge it forward and it comes, streaming forth from somewhere inside me until there is nothing else left to say.