The Dance Floor

Due to my busy schedule these few weeks, I have had to shift my focus, perhaps on a temporary basis, to other more relevant issues, i.  e.  my tests, presentations, script, and whatever else.  The dancing I love – no, I did not put it aside.  I practised in my room.  Combining the steps I learned earlier with a new set, I danced in my room and played resounding music through my mind.  As usual, during the wee hours of the morning.

It is always great to have my bare skin exposed to the air.  It gives my skin space to breathe….  My skin cannot be locked up in any kinds of clothing for too long a time.

Anyway, I will always come back to my second dance floor.  Say what you like, but my second dance floor is this blank piece of paper I am writing on.  Why so?  Because, like dancing, writing liberates the soul.  It sets inquinsitive minds free to explore around, allowing the chance to step up and yet look down and create an assessment of life’s little achievements.  It permits thoughtful reflection on what has been done and acted out in the dramas of the daylight to keep the self occupied.

Is that all?  The other reason is because it is on which my handwriting flourishes.  I have several handwritings, and I switch from one to another as I deem fit, though I stick to one only throughout my entire passage.

Does this imply that I have many personalities?  Ahem.  We shall conclude in the next few posts.

Dancing, like writing, is my passion.

Dancing, like writing, is my passion. (Photo credits to Faidzal Annuar)

Red Scarlet


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