I'm not scared of the biopsy (Those who know me know that I can endure anything, and I have the scars to prove it) Slide the needle in already, and leave it there for awhile if you like, and I'll walk around with it feigning that I've been stabbed by a wayward nurse (really, I'm too healthy of an individual on all levels for this to be serious - my money is on it being a blister from an infection) I don't really care what results tell me cause I know what the body is telling me today - that I feel strong and wild, and with a further motivation (a little bit of new stimuli is the reason) I like that a playlist is being created for me in dance, by a very talented artist with a parallel sensibility (You should know by now that when I find a creative friendship, I pay attention to it, cause it's absolutely worth the time to develop such connections with people on this planet - they can be few and far between) The two sessions of training have been a little more of the primal variety, and I wonder if this motion was buried, and that I simply required something fresh and new to bring it out of me (which is a commentary upon what has been - clearly there has been a reason for the overall body fatigue, and it hasn't been physical) I sit here typing and realize that I require another sweat, and more of a dance, and then I need to get this appointment out of the way so that I can come on home, and do some more (bleeding chest and all) If I do get eventually cut open, and there is a scar, I'll make sure I do something creative with it, and proudly wear it (as I will the ones upon my legs, they are begging for a tattooed narrative) Scars are meant for tongues, I think. Scars are meant for fingertips and laughter and salt. Either way, I demand more of dance, and more of conversation and dialogue as I've had in the last while, and less of a sameness.
Let's dance.
(Shall we?)
