Wednesday, February 18, 2009no one's looking.
listen, and interpret.
dance is music made visible.
dance like no one's watching.
i miss this. i miss my pointe shoes. soft pointes. pespiring like crazy. crying over being scolded, even. the joy when i'm able to perfect a step. the feeling of accomplishment. it has never been so much a need, but now it is. i love ballet even though i'm scared. classical ballet is not to be trifled with.
contemporary so freer, but i miss the feel of my shoes.
i came across my ballet teacher's photo just now. she looks older. her oldest student is one year younger than i am.
i don't know. she killed me. would i still go back to her? besides, she far away in bukit timah. and i thought tampines was far enough.
i shall sleep.
i miss my life. i miss breathing.