Sam Adams

Originally written on June 10, 2022

I often wonder if there’s a point in time when I’ll just be. When I’ll feel confident and comfortable. Will I have the understanding of life I always presumed adults had. I don’t feel like there was an invisible threshold that I passed and all of a sudden I was an adult human in the same way I pictured adults to be when I was a kid. I still feel uncertain and constantly second guess. There has been no major shift aside from feeling more myself every year older I get. Wishing I had known this version of myself longer. Spent less time worrying. Figuring out who I was versus who other people wanted me to be.

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Originally written on December 12, 2021

The glass shattered as it hit the wall. All of a sudden it wasn’t whole anymore. Tiny shards of the thin lamp were embedded in the shaggy carpet. Instant regret. Feeling out of control. Why? As the delicate projectile went flying through the air time slowed. So slow that there was time to regret the decision before it even began to crack. The sound alerted them. The broken glass became the centre of attention. Not the broken little girl who was angry and sad but told to be happy.

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Originally written on August 21, 2022

i didn’t realize feeling alone was common
to be surrounded by people
smile on the face
life of the party
still feeling isolated
feeling completely alone
unseen
changing shape
to fit the mold
to be the person
each situation wanted me to be
constantly changing
hurting
breaking
for others
because i didn’t know
myself
didn’t know how to be
myself
i’d never been
myself

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Originally written on June 29, 2022

I’m good at beginnings
sparks of ideas flowing quickly
tiny snapshots of what could be
I’m not so good at middles
or ends
I run out of steam
get judgemental
second guess myself
it’s easy to start over
more difficult to finish
this whole project has been about words on paper
for almost a whole year
maybe it’s time for a shift
time for words that complete the stories

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Originally written on April 24, 2022

I broke a small yellow tea cup a few weeks ago. A rogue spice jar of cinnamon fell out of the cupboard and landed on the cup sending it off the windowsill and on to the floor. I never really used it. It’s main purpose was to look cute. That said I really liked it. The deep yellow in contrast with the greeny-blue of my kitchen walls made me smile. The broken cup has been sitting on my kitchen table since the incident. All the little pieces are stacked inside the largest piece of the cup that survived and all of those are nestled on the unbroken saucer. I can’t bring myself to throw them away.

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I slipped for a moment
forgot you existed
all my troubles quietly slipped away
the release went unnoticed
the relief was overwhelming
feeling free
awake to possibility
hoping for something more
allowing myself to enjoy
a blissful moment
then i remembered

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Sam Adams

Sam Adams

Actor. Writer. Comedian. Based in Toronto. Dreaming of the Ocean.