Words found in a letter lost many years ago, written by a ballet teacher who I was absolutely certain hated me. On more than one occasion I was picked up from class in tears, having been called fat or told I would never make it. Twice those occasions fell on my birthday. Yet, her words in this letter are beautiful and full of confidence in me. Those quoted above I simply found inspirational and pertinent to this project in particular. I believe the Cassandra she was speaking of was about 16 at the time.
Such a pleasant surprise 5 years later, to find she was on my side the whole time. Confusing but nice. It makes me second guess a lot of things in my life. Can it be that I really just don't see the bigger picture that much in the moment? Is it going to take 5 years for me to process each relationship and see that nobody was out to get me after all? I sure hope not. That seems like a life of wasted time.
I know what the dance is now. It's me presenting this process to the audience in a 10 minute abstract, if that's possible. I'm taking what I've been doing and what I've gathered from it and turning it into a dance. I'm not trying to present research or something that's pretty, I'm trying to articulate what this has all been like through movement. The first time it will be shown is September 1st and 2nd as part of "Doris Says..." - a Philadelphia Fringe Show by Angela Sigley, Jessica Warchal-King and Michael T. Roberts. You should all be there. It's going to be great.
Still working on that whole jaded thing. I can't seem to dig myself out of this one, as much as I try or would maybe like to. The more time that goes by, the more I seem able to convince myself that love isn't worth it, people aren't worth it, he isn't worth it. Prince Charming doesn't seem to be coming. And if there were a time for him, this is it. Before I'm irrecoverable. Before there's nothing left of that girl looking up at the sky full of wonder and hope. Starting to sound like a whiny middle schooler and I'm stopping myself now.
It's not just that kind of love though. It's any love. I'm not letting people hurt me. I've turned to apathy instead. Maybe it's better. You all wanted me to stop letting it hurt me. You pushed me back to school. You kept secrets so that I would live my life, despite my lashings out, despite me cutting you out of my life, despite me realizing that wouldn't work and instead making the dance no one understood in the hopes that you would finally hear me.
But now, instead of getting angry or upset when I find out horrible details months later like I used to, I just didn't care this time. Whatever. That was all I had left. Is that what you wanted for me? Wish come true.
What a rough note to end on...but I'm not allowed to edit. So here I am.
And I am so uncomfortable with the majority of this post. So many of you will read this and each one will focus on a different issue in it. Please don't call me. I'm not talking to you about it.
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