Emotions

          So much has happened in such little time. We are always told how we take things for granted, we laugh and shake it off. We all do that, don't we? He was just like that. We always laughed at him, we mocked him, we said we hated him... and now he's gone and we are crying... You know what is the worst thing I can think of now? Having someone leave with so many things unsaid. Not getting a chance to say goodbye, to explain, perhaps. Yesterday he came to say goodbye and I wasn't there. Everyone cried, said everything there was to say, but I wasn't there. I cried too, ten times maybe and still counting... but he'll never know, he's left thinking I'm probably happy he's gone. I was rude to him. I was mean. That's me, that's what I am like towards all, but how would he know? He's gone and he thinks I hate him... if he thinks of me at all.
          Yesterday, I realised what makes the dancing so hard yet amazing. If you think it's the bruises and physical pain (which I know so well, having my knees hurt so badly I cannot even touch them, yet having to go on stage, drop on the knee again, kneel for a bit then drop again, all without making a sound, without changing expression, without as much as flinching...), let me laugh at you. The hardest part is staying in role, no matter what is going on in your life. It's drying your tears, forbidding yourself from letting single more drop leave your eye, cleaning the smeared mascara, and putting on make up like everything is the way it is supposed to be. It's being emotionless, evil, even though you want to cry. It's forgetting who you are and allowing the character take your body, use it as its own, while you are not even in there. It's becoming the black swan, when you most of all want to be just the fragile broken you and die... It's being in front of hundreds of people, all watching you, yet all they see is anger, threat. Hundreds of people looking straight at you, yet they all see the black swan, none of them sees you. That is what dancing is. Being heartbroken, sad, torn apart, feeling all and nothing at all, feeling like bursting, and dancing with so much emotion, none of which you are actually feeling. Forgetting yourself. Being the swan, the little psycho, becoming them so truly there's no room for the you in there... For a few minutes, I was them. The psycho, then the swan. I was no longer me. And for a bit, there was so little of me left, I felt no pain.
          Now it's back... I'm me again. And I still can't believe this is happening. I woke up today and it was still truth. He's gone.

sorry not sorry

Aj by som sa ospravedlnila, že nič nepíšem, ale na čo, komu? Sama sebe? Veď ja čosi stvorím, keď bude čas, ale momentálne vďaka autoškole (čo je kurva zážitok) nestíham ani fitko, nie ešte písať...

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