For one minute, for one lifetime, is one more real than the other?

and there i was. dancing, with no end or beginning just a constant movement propelling me away and nearer, closer and never reaching. why seek an end to this dance? because my heart, my soul yearns for some calm, something that will take my heart as if it were the richest orb of this earthly world... not fragile, not delicate, but treasured, held sacred. Loved. something, someone.

Take my heart and be satisfied, i cry! is it too much to ask, that it not be scarred? That it be treasured not tossed endlessly. a footnote. a side-bar.

It is too much to ask. living through the scars, persevering beyond and in spite of the maddening dance that forever threatens to abandon itself to exhaustion and defeat.

There is no defeat. Which is why we rage. We rage, we cry, we react to the fire and the water within us -- pushing, pulling, tossing, revolting -- we are that fire, we are that water, that is the dance, that is the scar... that is the I that is me.

Meet me here, and then we shall dance.