i am back in the sick swing of things in Calgary, and the swing is not the dance that i am used to. It has become grotesque and contorted; my hips can't move like that without me being terribly disfigured and hurt. My misshapen twisted ugly body will swing nevertheless...hey, what's a girl to do? - you've got to dance!
So dance.
Alright, i admit it; i can dance, and i can do the new swing with unflinching flair. Unfortunately, i like the old dance and vehemently decline the new one. Fuck the new one. The new one - mendacity.
Brick: Somethin' hasn't happened yet.
Big Daddy: What's that?
Brick: A click in my head.
Big Daddy: Did you say, 'click'?
Brick: Yes sir, the click in my head that makes me feel peaceful.
Big Daddy: Boy, sometimes you worry me.
Brick: It's like a switch, clickin' off in my head. Turns the hot light off and the cool one on and all of a sudden, there's peace.
Then there's peace.
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Gee whiz, m'dear, you like The Dancing?! I love the dancing, though I most likely do not have even a pinch of your swinging talents. I'm putting you down as one of my dancing partners for Folk Fest next year.
ReplyDeleteAnd when are we getting together for our habitual cup of tea?
O,
I
Not unless you mean some sort of metaphorical dance at which, I will then shuffle off and continue the unending gaze at my shoes.
ReplyDeletedancing to shoegaze can indeed be peaceful, if not terribly exciting to watch...
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