flap your wings to these wistful songs
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
I've done many many things, I've kept many secrets in this lifetime, I've loved more men than I can count with my hands and even more women. Men have never been very good for me, I have this thing about making very poor choices with love despite knowing better, I remember tragedy, when I was a child, I used to play lots of games where I pretended to be trapped in castles from which I could not get out...until someone would come to save me or I would die.
In all the romantic love stories I'm fond of reading, the heroine dies, she dies because she loved too much (hello swan lake), and this, honey, this is what I've come to know with time, love doesn't kill you, it carries on, it's terribly painful and tragic but there's no easy way out. I've wished for love to take me away but it has rooted me, there's no other solution but to keep on loving.
I've done many things, many many things, I've played, I've acted the part, I've painted my face and I've bowed when broken, I've been loved, I've been hated, I've been shamed, I've been wonderfully adulated, I've risen to challenges, I've deceived like a true spy. I've done so many things to keep myself from dying, the wonderful thing about all of them, is to find out they do work, they have kept me afloat...
I feel so often I am at the very end of my rope but then, out of nowhere seems to come another love, there is always another love, another passion to which advocate body and soul, these days is ballet, not stage ballet but secret ballet..
I never knew, I never could have predicted that dancing and moving like dancers do could bring such happiness into my life but it does, it makes me feel I am floating, all the hard work and the pain seem to fit perfectly into what I believe life should be, I don't mind to suffer greatly as long as undying beauty comes out of what has been done..
I love the ritual that dancing and ballet routines involve, the slippers, the candles, opening the windows so fresh air comes in, the make up (because dancing without make up would never make sense), perfume, arabesques, tippy toes, painkillers, feeling my muscles pulled and stretched like I never knew they could.. it's beautiful, just as beautiful as love making.
These days, ballet is the thing I do to keep myself from breaking, maybe I've been broken for too long and I can only find joy in things that demand sacrifices from me, either way, I enjoy it immensely.
Many things I've done, I do not care to remember but please, please, please, let me remember I was once a boy who loved dancing, let me remember one day when I am dying that I once was a boy who wanted to be a swan
Posted by c* at 10:52 PM