The Dancer's Turn

The spotlight.

It was on her.

Finally, it was her turn.

She has been waiting and waiting.

For the spotlight to be on her.

She stood in the middle.

The light immediately found her.

She’s stunning. Beautiful.

Exquisite.

She walks gracefully.

She closes her eyes.

To savour the spotlight.

That was finally on her.

She danced and danced.

And the spotlight followed.

All around the stage.

All around, the light followed.

She finished her dance.

With a twirl in the middle.

She stopped. She waits.

Waits for the applause.

From the audience she waited.

In the middle.

Spotlight on her, she waited.

Silence.

The beating of her heart.

Her deep breaths.

Were all she could hear.

And louder and louder.

They vanished the silence.

She couldn’t see far.

The light blinded her.

The spotlight finally dimmed.

And slowly she caught sight.

She caught a glimpse of the audience.

No one was there.

No one was watching.

Emptiness.

Her elegant performance.

No one saw.

The spotlight.

The spotlight deceived her.

The middle of the stage.

All around, it deceived her.

The light, slowly dimming.

Gradually, it left the stage.

Before it disappeared,

She took a bow.

She took a bow and left with the light.

Darkness.

Morning Rituals and Keeping Up with the Awesomeness

Alarm goes off at 4 in the morning. I hit snooze. I hit snooze 348756 times until it's 5:20am. I stand up. Finally.

I go to the bathroom. I bring my iPad and phone. I check my messages. I read. I think. I make most of my life's decisions in my bathroom. I finally take a bath. All this takes about 45 minutes to an hour.

I dress up. Oh, the dressing up. I seem to always love matching pink and green, green and brown, and blue and green. I either end up looking like a watermerlon or Mother Earth. I comb my hair and hastily grab all my stuff since I'm probably already running late because I couldn't decide which fruit I will dress up as that day. One quick glance around my room checking if I've forgotten anything, then I'm off.

I go to my parents' room to say goodbye. They're all still sleeping so I just sneak in to kiss my parents goodbye. My sister's stuck in the middle of my parents with her mouth wide open so I leave her alone.

I go down and eat breakfast. 10 minutes tops, then I'm off to my daily commute.

Tricycle. As the wind blows on my face, I put day cream on it. Sun block because... climate change.

Shuttle/FX. Oh the FX and its infinitely limited space. Once I reach the place where I take a jeep to the MRT, I check if my legs are still connected to my body. If they are, I continue.

Jeep. EMERTEE EMERTEE EMERTEE EMERTEE EMERTEE.

MRT. The stairs. The stairs are my morning enemy. Even if I DETEST how the MRT is being run by whoever, I actually love this part of my morning. Once I'm in the train, I put my earphones on, press Shuffle in my iPod, and finally I'm in a bubble for 30 minutes.

Bubble time. Oh, how I maximize those 30 minutes I have "all to myself." I put my earphones on and suddenly I'm bestfriends with Beyonce, Hayley Williams, Adele, Ingrid Michaelson, Armi Millare, Sara Bareilles and Regina Spektor. I suddenly have a concert and the #HumansofEDSA are my audience. Even The Script, Jason Mraz, Coldplay, The Smiths, Ed Sheeran, and Two Door Cinema Club attend my concert. It's AWESOME. Everyday, they attend. Everyday, IT'S AWESOME.

Today was different. Today, my earphones broke. My earphones broke and I didn't have my Bubble Time. My Bubble Time that I always look forward to every weekday morning. My 30 minutes "all to myself." No Beyonce...

Have you put Mentos in a newly opened Coca-Cola bottle? Have you watched an eruption of any volcano? Have you ever blacked out in a plane due to intense anxiety/anger because a baby is crying on top of his/her lungs? Or have you blacked out in general? All these happened to me at the same time in 3 seconds.

But after that, my perky/always positive thinking/taking control/won't-let-anything-ruin-my-day/I-can-always-turn-shit-around self kicked in. And I sang. Not out loud. Not out loud, but with conviction. I damn well sang my Beyonce and bobbed my head along with the bobbing of the train. I sang. I sang my frickin' heart out.

I sang my frickin' heart out because sometimes, when life breaks your earphones, you just gotta close your eyes, own the stage, and sing acapella to the #HumansofEDSA.

After all, they came all the way from wherever, sweating under the heat of the sun just to see you.

To-do list:
- Make life buy you new earphones!

The Dance

I dance but I don't know how.
I step my left foot then my right,
Move my hips then my hands.
That familiar tune I always dance to.
On my own with my eyes closed,
I dance.

You joined me in my trance.
Closed eyes, I didn't notice.
When I opened them, there you were,
Dancing in front of me.

You held out your hand.
I stared at it, confused.
I took it.
My hand fit it in yours perfectly.
We became one.
Oh, what harmony!

We danced and we danced.
You showed me some moves.
I tried some, some I couldn't do.
I didn't wanna stop dancing.
I forgot the feeling,
The feeling of dancing by myself.

One day,
You changed the tune.
Then she came.
She joined us.
You gave your other hand to her.
Oh, she's beautiful.
She's beautiful when she dances.
The grace, the flow, the beauty!

Your hand still in mine.
Her hand in yours.
Then we would all dance.
We would dance to your tune.

You would look into my eyes,
And everything would make sense.
Then you would look into hers,
I would get lost in the rhythm.

There'd be times I'd get dizzy,
But you would hold on to me.
You would hold on to me tight.
It feels like you will never let go.
So I don't.
Oh, the ecstasy!

Sometimes, it would get crowded.
Crowded where we used to dance,
Dance, just the two of us.
Oh, how I want to just dance with you,
Holding both of my hands,
Instead of just one.

Sometimes, I just wanna change the tune,
Or turn it off all together,
But I love the way you hold my hand,
Tight as we dance.
And the way you smile,
When you watch her dance.

One day, I will learn,
How to dance just like her.
But before that, I have to let go.
Let go of your hand,
That is tight around mine.

I hope when I come back,
You'd be standing by the jukebox,
Alone, waiting for me.
Waiting for me to have our first last dance.