There are times when I wonder… why I dance.

Why I spend so much time moving and stretching my body in unnatural ways.

Working past the point of exhaustion 

Sweating and Aching…

Ignoring injuries, and bruises, and dizziness.

The disappointment and depression

The stress. Why do I do it?

but what wouldn’t I do? For that moment.

For those few minutes. 

Where I feel beautiful, and graceful, and free, and expressive. 

In front of hundreds of people. Or even just a few people. Or even alone. 

It’s all worth it somehow.

SMASH MARATHON! :)

That’s what they call me. Well, people like me. We are the perfect melancholy.

The truth is I’m apologetic.

I’m an idealist.

Though I’m mostly an introvert I surround myself with people anyway.

I like details.

I’m indecisive and overly cautious even when the matter is completely trivial.

I’m hardworking and deliberative.

I’m obsessed with beauty. In every form. 

The perfect melancholy is often artistic and creative. 

I suppose that’s me too. 

The truth is if you tell me I’m talented, I will disagree with you.

Where people see potential in me I see a lacking. Every flaw. Every short coming. 

No matter how microscopic. 

The perfect melancholy knows perfect is out of reach and impossible.

But we strive for it anyway. 

Sometimes when you want something bad enough…

It DOES work out. 

Yes… it doesn’t always.

But sometimes. 

It does.