I feel like dancing, and ain't gonna spend any of my hard-earned hours wondering how people I don't know think it looks. This is a calculated decision, because you look cooler when you don't care. The ultimate is if you can spend hours and hours caring and rehearsing and disciplining your body, then let it all go in the moment. Yeah; that's how you make good art, good love, good work, good memories.

I'm still wound pretty tight; like a sping-loaded toy when you've fully cocked the works. More key-twisting just makes that broken clicking sound. Caffeine-loaded and this feedback thing is starting to spiral. Knots grow in my back on their own accord. But in spite of this and Everything I'm feeling good, like I can still hang loose, like I know what I'm about. I feel tall, serpintine, like a lanky asskicking rainmaker. I feel fearless, if still slightly overwhelmed.

She trapeses by, comments, and I tingle. This is how we all feel from time to time if we're lucky; and there's no point in hiding it.