My socks are basically like my gender
They're different every day and I never know how to explain it.

Well that was an attention grabber. It wasn't meant to be one, but y'know.

But my socks could describe a lot about me, I suppose.

My socks never match, just like my thoughts. They're always different colours and patterns, and sometimes the colours and patterns are close to each other that people, at first glance, think they're matching, but they're not. I never match, my thoughts never match, my socks never match.

My socks could describe to you about who I am, I wear dark clothes and dark shoes, but when my shoes are off, and my feet are more vulnerable, the colours of my bright socks are there. My socks are always bright. It's like a metaphor, I guess. Honestly, I don't like metaphors much, but here we go;
From the outside, I look depressed, dark, scary, intimidating. Which I get, because I have those dark, scary, intimidating thoughts that even scare me, and sometimes I think I have someone else living in my head.
But back to the point, once I take my shoes off, which could be seen as me opening up to you, showing you that I am vulnerable and I am trusting you to not step on my feet, I show you the other side of me. I have a lot of sides, but in this case, it's the bright side. It's the side of the artist inside. Everyone has an artist inside, I believe. And my bright socks represent that I trust you enough to show you that bright side.

But maybe I put my socks on my feet so that my soul doesn't fall through my toes.

They could also show you that I have different sides.
One sock will be one colour and pattern and the other will be something entirely different.
As I said a few sentences ago, I have a lot of sides, and I can never pinpoint them all, or explain them all. And I never will be able to. And I am okay with that. I am a strange person with strange socks and a strange mind.
I do and say things I don't mean but sometimes I insist I mean them, and I almost never know if that's a truth or a lie. I could insist I'm fine, but I don't know if I am or not. I think I'm fine, but maybe I'm not? I don't know.

They can also show that I am indecisive. If you ask me what I want for dinner, I'll most likely answer, "I don't know." Because I don't. Not because I'm stupid, but because I am so utterly indecisive. I know people hate that I say, "I don't know." And sometimes I do know, but I don't really know, you know?
Probably not, but that's how my brain works. It just happens and I don't know why it's like this in my head, but it is.

This isn't even scratching the surface of what happens inside my head. Pretty much everything is happening in my head all at the same time, and it's filled with facts I don't need to know, my brain. Filled with random things that aren't usually useful, but that's alright.

I will never truly know what's going on in my head and neither will you. But that's the thing, I know exactly what happens in my head at all times, but I also never know, and I can never know and I always know. You may think you get it, but do you get what goes on inside your own head? I mean, if you do, congratulations, man. That's something I can't do. I also can't match my socks.

This is also like 17 paragraphs of me talking about socks, and about how I'm a walking paradox.