*blinkblink* Dirty Dancing is being watched in the other room...I do have a hang up on dancing, people who dance, and anything at all related to it, you know. I'm quite aware of this. But...Dance is humanity's oldest art form, not counting sex.
...
I am reminded of how desperately I wish I had any amount of talent at dancing, any at all. Freedom of body, of movement...Freedom of heart and soul...

When I am reminded of how much I wish I could dance, I am reminded even more so of how much I wish I could fly.
.......
*cough* ignore me when i do things like that, would you? waxing all vaguely deep and poetic in a vague and wistful sort of way...i should be thwapped repeatedly for my melodrama, you know. (look, i'm gonna do it again for the last time today, and that'll be the end of it, promise.)

Moodswings are quite useful sometimes, you know. I don't stay sad. I can't stay sad. Even when I'm unhappy and eyeing sharp objects and wondering what their effects on my wrists might be, I know I'm not going to stay unhappy. I'm a failure as a depressive person. I really am. Melodrama, or just drama in general, however, is a constant state of being. So, when I'm doing the whole 'waaah the world hates me' thing, just ignore it. It'll go away eventually. Of course, when I'm being pretentious, your only hope is to cross your fingers and pray that I get it out of my system before I get too annoying.

Eh. That's all.