things i’ll regret saying tomorrow morning.
in which i wrote without filtering my words.
it feels like i’m becoming an embodiment of the characteristics and notions which i dislike the most, reassembled in the form of a cacophony of bones and flesh, and perhaps a hint of lavender blue. i’ve succeeded in heading in the converse directions over and over with the foggy memories or excuses, lies, and thank you’s to justify myself. i’m this close to beginning to victimize myself and romanticize afflictions which would barely suffice to be seen as mere residue besides your incessant struggle with different sources of turmoil. i am fully aware that yes, we all say that pain is relative, pain tolerance varies but i’m crumbling so often, even though i detest being weak.
perhaps this is why i began to love dance so much, in which certain styles appeal to me; in which over exertion and injuries stood no taller than the process – the process in which i remember nothing but everything beginning from the soles of worn out shoes, and blisters against pale skin. the curve of one’s spine, the bend of one’s arm, the angles between one’s fingers – balance, facade, burning. burning up, just to remember where you’re going.
everything starts here, begins here, and ends all the same, because you traverse alone, you carry your own bones and sweat within pockets of scarred skin, you support the hefty price of having the world lying on your shoulders, for who else will do it for you, if not you?
i had a first on friday, when i found myself wishing for the item to end faster , and for a second i hated being on that stage.
asphyxiation, and i was reminded of why i was always afraid of falling, because working was her was something along the lines of an irregular mood curvature in which i constantly deviated between wanting to give her boosts and wanting to clamber past her but it ended up pointless because i wasn’t beneath her, per say, to begin with in that field. and within the bijou radius of a five minute choreography placed on repeat, it’s like running in circles and chasing after ataraxia, but i couldn’t run towards the sunset with the thought of having a way to fill the gaps between my shivering fingers because i kept finding myself faced with dead ends.
i grew up with the mindset that with things i was confident in, i claimed the right to be a tad bit selfish, because they were the only things which i didn’t have to force myself to share.