Thursday, February 19, 2004


poured out some of the things bothering me to some people just now. im feeling really really bad. ok..i shall change that to was.

just had my bath. feeling much better and fresher. its now 11.36. should be sleeping if not i'll be sleepy again tomorrow. i dread tomorrow. ok..good that there's three periods of lit but im not doing my math hw. nor am i doing the geog tutorial . shall just COPY tomorrow. hehe.

thanks to sis, chris and damian. you guys have helped by just being there. thanks loads. (:

i guess music makes a person feel better. why didnt it occur to me? no wonder ive been so low down these past few days. guess it was all the absence of music. just put on the cd i burned last week. listening to ATLANTIA by secret garden. its so soothing and relaxing. i love music! pity it cant play on the player in my room. only the computer can read it. oh..no..musci is the best. haha. i feel as if the music is taking me in..just..bringing me on a journey. it aids in me releasing my thots and troubles. taking them far awae as the sound floats through the surroundings. and its just best that i can let the music lead me thru while i just bang non stop on the poor key board. well not exactly bang cos im not in a foul mood :0

yay. feeling more at peace now:) aiya. i think it was all pms just now. my period hasnt come. im happy. ok..that is so darn contradicting. cos..yes im happy when i miss periods but it also means moodswings like these in which i dont feel on top of the world. so its not so much a happy thing after all. but having a period spells troublesome. ok forget that topic.

no wonder they sae music is the international language. so nice!! lalalaa. im being transcended by the music to somewhere of peace. ahah. ok this is sounding so spiritually new age. oops!

its really a pity i cant make music. cant sing, cant play the piano whatsoever. but at least...i can dance! i can give life to the music! wonderful. but then again. no one goes prancing around as and when they desire. and if i do, (which i do!) i'll just look like a lunatic.

this is so calming. it just takes all my bothers away. it all seems so far away. hmm..i shall go read the bible and pray a very long prayer to relieve whatever shits im going thru. they say people who pray are much calmer. oh! since im so free i shall type out this extract...

i really see the beauty of dance in this. from what the writer wrote.

Beauty In Motion

Every saturdae morningin my home town, a rusted utility truck would park in main street and out would step the most glamorous woman i knew--my ballet teacher , Mrs Cordova.

Mrs Cordova had the face of the russian ballerinas in the books i pored over--soulful eyes,aritocratic nose, black hair pulled into a bun.Her clothes had a cast-off look,but she wore them with panache,from the chipped brooch at her neck to the man's coat which swept the ground when she walked. Although she didn't have a dancer's body,(her hips were too wide,her frame on the dumpy side)she could walk across the carpark as if it were the stage of the Bolshoi.

I was not a pretty child, but in Mrs Cordova's class i felt beautiful. She had a ritual i loved in which she'd call us,one by one,to dance across the room to her, while she offered the gentlest of corrections.When it was my turn, and i had her full attention, my arms seemed to float and my feet to skim across the floor with glittering precision.(Thank goodness there was no mirror to show me how i really looked.) Then i curtsied ,my imagination transforming Mrs Cordova's radiant smile into the faces of my wildly applauding fans.I knew i had to be her favourite student .(looking back, i suspect every girl in the class knew she was the favourite - but that's usually the way with gifted teachers.)

My mother found her a pathetic figure: the white fur cuffs on Mrs Cordova's best dress were torn, held in place with safety pins.And just where had she studied ballet? A small-town dance studio,most likely. Should parents entrust their daughter's vulnerable bodies to such a person?

I'd no sooner acquired my first and only pair of pink satin pointe shoes than mother put them away in the attic for fear that dancing on toe with Mrs Cordova would do permanent damage to my feet. I had dreamed of gliding and twirling on those pink satin toes. My ballet recital was jsut days away,rather than attend in homely, black littlt-kid slippers,i stayed home pleading illness. i never took another class from Mrs Cordova.But for a long time, i missed her.

What i missed was not her knowledge of ballet fundamentals(i'm sure she didnt know tt much). It was her unshakable belief in the power of movement to imbue the everyday with beauty.She taught me that a woman who moves with assurance and graceis by nature beautiful,never mind a few extra kilos or a rummage-sale budget.She created her own reality and invited all her students-the gawky,the geeky,the pidgeon-toed-to share in its enchantments.

I think i know what girls mean when they say they want to be ballerinas(or figure skaters ,for tt matter).They simply want some beauty in their lives.Well, why not?And to experience the beauty of movement,all you have to do is turn on the music - and dance.


it DID make sense didnt it. such a nice piece of literature. well, the planets-Jupiter is playing now. love tha piece! sounds like some sad scene in a movie..

ok..shall retire now. good night all. till the next update.

ive spent too much time on the com now..



charlene said a lil' prayer for you at 12:05 AM