Sorry.

for all the past wrongs, for all the emotional baggage I carry, for all the hurt that I seem to dish out, willy-nilly, without a thought or even a casual regard for pain. 

I am weak. Mea culpa. Mea culpa.

It's been a while since I was able to write fluidly here, letting words take the rein rather than relying on pictures to fill the gaping void. Horrible, isn't it? I know that a picture speaks a thousand words so the last post was pretty much equivalent to a doctorate thesis. Oh, good heavens. Let's not even go there, shall we?

An old friend emailed me from far away, saying that she will drop by Merlion City and oh, we should so catch up with a good dance. Even at the airport! It's been too long since these feet dragged my tired and failing body for another good dance. I think they might have forgotten how to.

I spoke to CallerMouse today and she asked me, "Is this job the thing for you?" and I could only shrug my shoulders. I brought up the dying dream of once being able to conduct my own dance school and to do it for the love, the passion, of it, rather than for the sake that I need to pay my bills or fund my addictions. And for a moment, it sounded real. It sounded as though it can happen. I spoke of what may come and what I need to do to get my life under control again. 

Oh, if only it was so easy. 

But I digress again. Life seems so easy. But its not. You actually have to move your a$$ to get somewhere. Right?

I'm going to journal a bit more frequently and hope that inspiration hits me and hits me soon.