who am i… .really
you know when your mind is racing a hundred miles an hour with the analysis of life swirling around you and inexplicably your hands are helplessly paralyzed to express what’s going on inside?
or is that just me?
this may not be the venue for this. in a way i feel like a little child lost in the sea of a churning world with hands to the sky crying out “look at me! look at me!”
but don’t we all want to be seen? even those of us who hide? dont we hide because we are afraid we wont be seen? for who we really are?
if we dont put it out there we wont be misrepresented or misinterpreted.
all my life i’ve rebelled against the system, skewing the world around me just enough so that the rules cant apply.
I’d wear shoes with that were chronically known to come untied during gym class so that I’d HAVE to stop and tie them at some point while we were running laps
I rarely become an official member of anything
Hell I don’t even write in this journal on any sort of recognizable pattern or consistency.
We… rather I am afraid to be seen for only what I lack, where I don’t measure up, where I don’t belong.
I am petrified that I will show up somewhere for which I was invited to join solely out of pity….
So sometimes… I just don’t go…
Recently I jacked up my knee, which sucked and still sucks
I had to stop swing/blues dance, right when I was really starting to get into bluesing too. And I loved it, I desired so much to be a blues dancer, I had a small hope inside of me that I had some potential to actually do well in something for once in my life and not just fly under the please-don’t-notice-me radar.
Dancing kept my soul from shriveling
It gave me a place to feel like my failings weren’t as noticeably shoved to the forefront and thus I had earned some right to existed peaceably in that space and time
I’ve had several situations give rise to the realization of how integral dancing had become to my worth, especially here in LA
LA is so different from Chicago, sooooo different and yet I’ve had such a difficult time defining that difference. Back home, everyone’s a badass, until you get to know them, then you’re their extended family. Back home, if you allow someone to be vulnerable with you there is a bond and a promise there that you are now connected in someway along this life’s journey, you got each others backs now. Back home, there is this interesting sense of family formed among friends. Back home, I could show up to a party knowing only one person and leave knowing everyone
I don’t know perhaps its me that’s changed.
I guess there’s a lot about this world and I about myself I don’t understand.
…iwishiweredancing
