Can't Stop

                                    Do not go gentle into that good night.
                                                Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  - Dylan Thomas

I have a load of laundry on the floor that I should be tending to but I'm ignoring it. Like I'm ignoring the fact that I haven't trained in a month in a half. Ignoring my annoying Armenian neighbor who snores every night at 2 A.M. like clockwork-poor bastard probably has got a bad case of sleep apnea yet the fucker bangs on my wall every time my alarm goes off in the morning. I'm not throwing up my fists at the fact that the projects I have been spending all my time on have fallen at the seams, although I am wondering if this whole circus train is worth it. I'm not even throwing up my fists at the Enter key on my keyboard not working right now. Simply tempted to bury myself in bed and ask someone to wake me up when it's all over.

I'm on my second Kettle One cocktail at 10 am in the morning, playing the same song by the Red Hot Chili Peppers over and over again like some lunatic with the volume on full blast-my neighbors probably think this is the final straw. I'm absorbing. Absorbing my anger and frustration, like unwanted penetration, choosing not to bang my fists into every poor sucker that comes by because that's not what adults do. We don't drop tears, we don't ask questions about this world, never wonder or say that it may have no meaning at all.

And when did I send a message into the universe that I was accepting applications for old dudes with money to offer me a break in the form of opportunity, cars or money just because I am this poor little innocent girl that needs a little help in exchange for some pervy conversation and maybe a night cap if I happened to feel up for it. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of sweet talking people, tip toeing around their bigger than life egos, being careful not to intimidate them with my cunning sarcasm just because I am hoping they might give me a chance to have a voice. Just once, I would like my message on the pavement to be read,  to speak without interference, to live a life without reservation, to burn bright even if it's for a mere moment.

I'm hopping on all these damn trains leading to nowhere just to be part of the wave, be a part of the conversation, to have a life that is more than just ordinary.

My time involved with dance has been replaced by suitors, young men who whisper sweet bullshit in my ears filling me up with emptiness and frustration. Each one, better than the next, as they all persistently plead for my attention, all of them trying to fit me in their lives for their own agendas. Some of them scratching the itch of anger, escape, control, revenge, forgetting the past, distraction, masturbation, validation, frustration, confusion, copulation and none of them know they will not do. Because none of them have taken the time to see me. To get to really know the truth- instead having my image be merely a creation of their mind, and nothing more than just a mirage of their desires.

And still, I can't stop. Can't stop this crazy wave I'm on. I'm addicted, like a repulsive insect attracted to the light that will destroy me, I listen to Mr. Networks say, "you're gonna do good kid", and walk into the fire with my eyes hypnotized. Accepting the gifts that old men offer and playing Russian roulette with my safety, my peace of mind, trusting no one but still meandering into their worlds anyway.

I reserve my right to drink at 10 am and get drunk to John Frusciante's awesomeness. Because hope doesn't float my friends, it rises. I haven't seen the worst and I'm ready to barge through these damn doors guns blazing. Let these old men try and fantasize about a chance, let these network producers offer empty opportunities, let these married men with children make passes at me, sending me love notes and perverted messages, all trying to be this kid's best friend.

I'm riding this wave, for better or worse. I'm persevering, getting closer to the light, not ready to give up before I have expressed my truth. This life is more than meets the eye. I believe it. I believe this soul has yet to leave her trace on this world. I can't stop my desires, and whatever I do, I'm gonna go big. I'm putting the pistol to my lips, paying my dues, choosing to live a life without limitations, hanging on for that chance to ride high, not ready to die before I have stretched my limits. I'm choosing to go into danger, bleeding in this jungle of fury, leading me to some answers. I'm worth my weight, and I'm just waiting to see how this next chapter is gonna unfold.

In competition, we discover ourselves.

                                       

                                        
     
            In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always
             wins...not through strength, but through persistence.

      It's been a while since I've written anything on this blog. I suppose I was too hurt and defeated by life to continue to divulge my inner thoughts. Perhaps it was disappointment from failed partnerships, cowardice from the voices around me who doubted my abilities...this forum forces me to confront my emotions and I wasn't ready to face myself. Things have changed in one year's time- I have grown as a dancer, moved on from living in little studios and from the confining, intoxicating memories of my childhood home to the City of Glendale. A place that fills my lungs with the pollution of noise and nicotine from all the hairy faces of the Armenians who congregate every street corner, coffee shop, and newsstand of this town. I'm happy here despite the pressures of every breathing thing of Middle Eastern descent bringing up the M word...marriage.

      My sister Jacqueline got married a few weeks ago and despite our unwanted distance, I'm very overjoyed at this new chapter in her life. And while I want to pretend that her graduating to this next phase of her life doesn't affect me, it does. Not because I am envious of her happiness, but because it forces me to think about the life I am giving up at this time in the pursuit of my dreams. The unconventional path I've led instead of the traditional one has undeniable sacrifices.

      I suppose a dancer's life can be a lonely one. But even a tough kid like me wants someone to nurse her wounds after tearing the same muscle for the fiftieth time; someone to be there after practicing with bronchitis, sniffles and every other contagious cold under the sun; someone to really see me, hold my hand and tell me everything is going to be alright.

      But, I move through these emotions. I am water, changing form through every circumstance- and, I cannot express with enough gratitude the selfless support from friends and family who have lent me the hours of tedious emotional and physical assistance, walking by my side and making every step possible.

      And for now, as I face competitions in salsa and ballroom, endure grueling training, forcing my body and mind into submission, practicing my routines to perfection- I am the master of my fate. I hold the keys to my destiny. No wounds, past hurts, or excuses can keep me back. I will pass through the grinding bones and muscles to achieve the inches of flexibility and extensions that will bring me closer to the picture of my inner greatness. I am a survivor and I fear no one. No judge, partner or one situation can take this illuminated picture from me. I surprisingly hear the voice of encouragement from my mother telling me nothing can hold me back. I hear my father telling me not to give up, to learn from him, reminding me his blood runs through my veins. I am strength, I am powerful, I am a survivor and I will conquer. Everything in life comes down to choice. And at 26 years old, I am too young to bow to defeat before I have seen my rose bloom. I hold the power. I will not stay in the darkness of my sorrow. I will fight and despite any disappointments, my life will go on. I will not break before I have seen what my strength and will can accomplish. This isn't the end. Oh no, this is just the beginning, and I have barely begun.

"There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth. Not going all the way and not starting." Buddha