Friday, September 25, 2009


It was painful listening to ryan talk.
I knew his fatigue, i've felt his same pain and tried living by his " cry if you want to, laugh if you want to" yet it stung because there was just one part i couldn't understand.
One part i very dearly wished i had in me.
The part when he realised, he needed dance.
He needed dance to get his mind off things.

I always thought i loved dance that much. Last year, i cried, i worried about never being able to dance again after my bouts of injuries . Those injuries that left me out in the cold for a few months. I remembered feeling extremely happy, my first class back was one taken by anan. I stood at the back, it was the red studio in the old oschool. The relief, the joy when i realised, i no longer felt the pain. Ironically, i remembered all that, yet i don't remember how exactly it truely felt. Those memories are like kohl now... smudged kohl getting fainter each day. What happened to me wanting to fight? Wanting to find back that love for dance, that strong passion, that fervent excitement going to new classes? I realise as each day passes, i become an even darker shadow of my former self.

Today, all it took was for me to realise that i've lost my keys and i went downhill from there. Every single thing came back to me... every single ounce of negativity amassed and came right back at me. I feel sorry for myself sometimes, sorry that i could be reduced to such a sorry state, sorry that i'm so vulnerable, sorry how easily i trip and fall and stay there. And i close up. Envelope myself in my own emotions, and shut out the rest of the world. That's all i do when things go wrong, i flail , i cry, i turn violent, i go numb. I choose to pull a veil over my very own eyes so i could live in denial. Denial that when i wake up the next morning, everything will be alright. That just by spilling my emotions into something as unfeeling as this space could solve everything. That going out and touching everything at it's most superficial layer could take my mind of things. That things would set itself right, that i could find comfort in pain and numbness.

I wish i could find solace in something, real comfort, something less transient, something i know i could fall back on any time. I've been thinking, why i tend to shut the people closest to me out. Someone who would be there to listen, who would be there to hold me. And i realised, it's because i don't want to foil the memory i have of them. I don't want it etched into my mind that at one point of time when i reached out to them, i din't get the solace i needed. I don't want to have to fear opening up again, so i choose to stay enveloped.

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