Wednesday, August 25, 2004
My eyes look a little greener when I cry.
I wish I could talk to someone who understood. I supposed a few people would, but I actually don't know that I want to talk. I kind of just want to wallow in this. Maybe it will make me do something about it.
Few things require as much passion as dancing. I'd say its limited to performance art and MAYBE art in general. There's just something soul satisfying about dancing that accounting, chemistry, and psychology don't have. Nothing in the world could make me feel that good; not the best chocolate, the best hug, or even the best sex. Sex has never been as satisfying as a dance, ever. It sparked something inside me and made me beautiful, like the most beautiful thing on earth. I was glowing, floating across the stage, the gym, the hallway, the bathroom, anywhere. When I danced, not one thing, not one person could touch me. I was invincible, immortal. Dance was the safest place I've ever been. I could dance my way into anyone's heart and into the very sweetest Utopia. The best and worst of emotions could all be danced away. How does one handle the most tragic days in life gracefully? Dance it out. Dance it all out until everything is gone and you cannot dance anymore. Some of my worst days yielded my most amazing dancing. That's all the therapy I'll ever need. The dance floor is my couch. My body is my mouth. My movements are my words. The mirror is my doctor. Body language can only tell the truth and a mirror will never lie. I was so lucky to have a dance floor as a canvas to paint my life on for 10 years. Losing it felt like having a piece of my soul stripped away. Its funny though...I always joked about getting my soul back from drill team on the last night of Spring Show, when really, that's precisely when it fell apart. The day I stopped dancing was the day I became incomplete. I fear nothing else will ever be able to fill that void. I mean, dancing was practically an out of body experience for me. When I performed, something would just simply take me over and I, to this day, cannot remember how I felt or what I thought about during a performance. I danced in a different dimension; my own. Maybe I was just a little closer to heaven. I wonder if I'll ever make it back before I die...
I just wish words were enough to explain this.
"That which cannot be spoken can be sung,
That which cannot be sung can be danced." ~Old French saying
Few things require as much passion as dancing. I'd say its limited to performance art and MAYBE art in general. There's just something soul satisfying about dancing that accounting, chemistry, and psychology don't have. Nothing in the world could make me feel that good; not the best chocolate, the best hug, or even the best sex. Sex has never been as satisfying as a dance, ever. It sparked something inside me and made me beautiful, like the most beautiful thing on earth. I was glowing, floating across the stage, the gym, the hallway, the bathroom, anywhere. When I danced, not one thing, not one person could touch me. I was invincible, immortal. Dance was the safest place I've ever been. I could dance my way into anyone's heart and into the very sweetest Utopia. The best and worst of emotions could all be danced away. How does one handle the most tragic days in life gracefully? Dance it out. Dance it all out until everything is gone and you cannot dance anymore. Some of my worst days yielded my most amazing dancing. That's all the therapy I'll ever need. The dance floor is my couch. My body is my mouth. My movements are my words. The mirror is my doctor. Body language can only tell the truth and a mirror will never lie. I was so lucky to have a dance floor as a canvas to paint my life on for 10 years. Losing it felt like having a piece of my soul stripped away. Its funny though...I always joked about getting my soul back from drill team on the last night of Spring Show, when really, that's precisely when it fell apart. The day I stopped dancing was the day I became incomplete. I fear nothing else will ever be able to fill that void. I mean, dancing was practically an out of body experience for me. When I performed, something would just simply take me over and I, to this day, cannot remember how I felt or what I thought about during a performance. I danced in a different dimension; my own. Maybe I was just a little closer to heaven. I wonder if I'll ever make it back before I die...
I just wish words were enough to explain this.
"That which cannot be spoken can be sung,
That which cannot be sung can be danced." ~Old French saying
