subject: dance
style: grateful
source: Hauge
"This is the happy zone."
I love to dance. For so many reasons. I wasn't much of a dancer, until after the break-up. The first one. Then I discovered DDR (or, more accurately, was introduced to it by Ben, who I thank). If you don't know what DDR is, in this day and age, I can't help you. I'm not explaining it, so go look it up. The game was one of my few conduits for salvation from my dolor. I was instantly hooked. Even now, more than four years later, I still consider it an excellent hobby and source of exercise, not to mention an incomparable stress-reliever.
Dance is my heart and soul. It helps me recall I am alive. Ever since I joined the hip-hop classes last year, I have had that one short hour to look forward to each week, to let off a little steam. I admit I didn't make full use of this opportunity for a while; I took it for granted at first. But when my stomach is growling, and I'm failing at life, and she's come back to haunt me, and her ex has said something to tick me off, and I have, for the fifth time this month, reached my boiling point and lost my cool, that dance routine is suddenly the catholicon for my rotten green life. It gives me something to live for, an ever-constant starlight (a great song by Freezepop, who also sang Stakeout for Ultramix 3), especially when the parants --not mine, but indefinite-- are being particularly agitative and totally unreasonable, and I truly need that refuge most.
I am especially glad I have the class these days, because lately the game has been letting me down. I can't stand the noncooperation of these godforsaken dance pads. How am I supposed to AAA Heavy, when ten percent of steps on the right arrow aren't even picked up ? I need something fresh and new for once. I can't unleash my full potential until I have the means. I have the will, but no way. That is one more classic adage, proven false.
style: grateful
source: Hauge
"This is the happy zone."
I love to dance. For so many reasons. I wasn't much of a dancer, until after the break-up. The first one. Then I discovered DDR (or, more accurately, was introduced to it by Ben, who I thank). If you don't know what DDR is, in this day and age, I can't help you. I'm not explaining it, so go look it up. The game was one of my few conduits for salvation from my dolor. I was instantly hooked. Even now, more than four years later, I still consider it an excellent hobby and source of exercise, not to mention an incomparable stress-reliever.
Dance is my heart and soul. It helps me recall I am alive. Ever since I joined the hip-hop classes last year, I have had that one short hour to look forward to each week, to let off a little steam. I admit I didn't make full use of this opportunity for a while; I took it for granted at first. But when my stomach is growling, and I'm failing at life, and she's come back to haunt me, and her ex has said something to tick me off, and I have, for the fifth time this month, reached my boiling point and lost my cool, that dance routine is suddenly the catholicon for my rotten green life. It gives me something to live for, an ever-constant starlight (a great song by Freezepop, who also sang Stakeout for Ultramix 3), especially when the parants --not mine, but indefinite-- are being particularly agitative and totally unreasonable, and I truly need that refuge most.
I am especially glad I have the class these days, because lately the game has been letting me down. I can't stand the noncooperation of these godforsaken dance pads. How am I supposed to AAA Heavy, when ten percent of steps on the right arrow aren't even picked up ? I need something fresh and new for once. I can't unleash my full potential until I have the means. I have the will, but no way. That is one more classic adage, proven false.
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