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When I lived in ft lauderdale I used to go out dancing every weekend and several times a week too... This was in october area I think and I was living in a party house and it was easy and fun and great and I had amazing looking legs and butt because I would dance in 5 inch heels...
The clubs were dark and you weren't asked to dance, you were pulled onto the floor and you moved your body forgetting everything but the music, the lights, your partner (whom you had to actually hold onto to keep from getting disoriented by the flashing of the lights and the spins they put you into) and the blood and rum coursing through your veins... I danced in celebration of self, for the pure enjoyment of it but mostly for the purpose of forgetting...
When you dance, you forget everything but the actual moment. You can't think about anything but that or you lose your balance, your person, your sence of where you are and what you're doing and the action is ruined for you...
I havn't been out in months, I miss it. The extascy of forgetting and the rush that comes from it is something not easily forgotten... it's better than any drug. It is better than an orgy and it's almost better than foreplay...
While dancing in my heels, I only fell once. My partner had sped up his movements and he was a half a sec infront of the beat and spun me too fast... I tripped over the edge of my jeans comming out of the spin and was about to hit the floor when he caught, picked me back up and held me close with the promise to not let me fall. In all the many days and times after that we danced, he never did...
I'm not sure why I'm compelled to share all of this, or even why it's come into my thought pattern...
Maybe because I was supposed to go dancing tonite.
I'd been invited out by a fellow who for all intensive purposes is pretty dang neat, but I got caught at the house with details and then just realized that I'm not ready to dance again...
I don't think I have it in me yet.
When I lived in ft lauderdale I used to go out dancing every weekend and several times a week too... This was in october area I think and I was living in a party house and it was easy and fun and great and I had amazing looking legs and butt because I would dance in 5 inch heels...
The clubs were dark and you weren't asked to dance, you were pulled onto the floor and you moved your body forgetting everything but the music, the lights, your partner (whom you had to actually hold onto to keep from getting disoriented by the flashing of the lights and the spins they put you into) and the blood and rum coursing through your veins... I danced in celebration of self, for the pure enjoyment of it but mostly for the purpose of forgetting...
When you dance, you forget everything but the actual moment. You can't think about anything but that or you lose your balance, your person, your sence of where you are and what you're doing and the action is ruined for you...
I havn't been out in months, I miss it. The extascy of forgetting and the rush that comes from it is something not easily forgotten... it's better than any drug. It is better than an orgy and it's almost better than foreplay...
While dancing in my heels, I only fell once. My partner had sped up his movements and he was a half a sec infront of the beat and spun me too fast... I tripped over the edge of my jeans comming out of the spin and was about to hit the floor when he caught, picked me back up and held me close with the promise to not let me fall. In all the many days and times after that we danced, he never did...
I'm not sure why I'm compelled to share all of this, or even why it's come into my thought pattern...
Maybe because I was supposed to go dancing tonite.
I'd been invited out by a fellow who for all intensive purposes is pretty dang neat, but I got caught at the house with details and then just realized that I'm not ready to dance again...
I don't think I have it in me yet.
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And don't knock being a good conversationalist and/or good company. There are too few people in the world who manage to be either, let alone both.
As for dancing...
I can't dance and so I don't dance. Though I have been known to attempt it when thoroughly intoxicated...
[Edited on Dec 28, 2005 10:29AM]