Some words on dancing are never enough. Some say dancing is like poetry, with arms and legs; I believe, and feel, it’s vastly more than that. Dancing steps in, when words don’t suffice. Two steps in one direction, at a particular chosen rhythm, a turn or a twist in another, showing some explosion of emotion, can say a whole lot more, than this entire paragraph.
To dance is to enter your own world, where senses grow stronger, where reality brushes away. Music tingles through your nerves, notes extended through your limbs, beats carried on by each and every single movement. Dancing feels like the perpetuation of music, the silent voice that translates it.
Secretly watching someone dancing alone, is similar to reading a diary. However, in this particular diary, the reader does not get lost in between useless words, misplaced punctuation or spelling mistakes. It’s human emotion in its essence. In its purest of forms.
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