warning: self-loathing, self-pity, and self-degredation ahead. click on x t exit.

god, i miss dance so much tht the pain is almost phsyical. well, partly so because sitting here, with my knees folded up against my chest i can feel the veryvery tangible, physical roll of fat. the fat tt wasnt there a while ago.

ashley showed my a video of a russian and spanish dancer doing a pad de deux of don quixote on youtube . and it sparked a heartfelt discussion in which i knew that there were no real reasons why i shldnt go back, besides the fear of manymany things.

browsing friendster like i sporadically do ended in a gnawing longing inside with a lone tear bearing many sorrows.

i told ashley "its different. you're different." its true. wots the use of talent without the will. i envy them for that. and its even sadder that i know, i dont have enough drive to even think about it.

i feel the dance. i know how freeing it was (how ironic i quit for the physical binding instead of the metaphysical realm it elevated me t). and i remember, remember how good it was, how good i was. how good i could have been. it would and should sound and look arrogant, but i knew. it was something no one cld have taken. when dancers say "my life is dance" i pass it off as exaggeration or at the very least naivety, so i wont say its my life. but its part of me, somewhere deep.

all that shit, all that fucking SHIT. i know this is something i will regret.

theres nothing else for me. and its god damned stupid cos so many ppl dont know their gifts while mine gleams and dulls cos i dont have the ambition.


so maybe ill go back.