distilled
 a garden of lilacs under a sheet of ice


i stopped to dance
Friday 20 July 2001

I stopped writing. For only a few moments. I wanted to dance.

I hadn't ever danced before, though to many I gave the impression that I had. Really, I had never known the emotions that come with dancing. With doing. With being.

On a cold late March night, I was lost and sitting out in front of the dorm. Alone. Thinking, feeling my way through the inevitable existential angst experienced by college students around the world. I took off my classes and gazed into the night sky, around at the blurry buildings which surrounded me.

My eyes came to rest on the high rise dorm at the far end of the quad. Written in the lights of the building, as tall as its eight stories, was the word "BE". Stunned. And I laughed, at the silly obviousness of it all, and I cried, at my own stupidity, for trying too hard and not, well. Being.

And so we have it that, despite my ineptness, I chose to dance.

I am not done dancing; I hope to never stop. This time around I will make the experience more real. By choosing to be here no matter what the pain and to suffer through it so that I may witness the beauty. This is my last year before I have to worry about the "real world". I am going to suck it dry.


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