Danceworks

Danceworks. It is interesting how quickly one's perception changes before and after a performance. I still remember how i had first cringed at the thought of an anti-drug cheer competition (like, isn't that more for the less jaded primary and lower secondary school students who absorb government propaganda like sponges? ). How i had scorned the immaturtiy of the cheer lyrics; "Winners, that's what we are, pledge our souls to play this role.", having sold mine to the darker side of language - and life. And - the part that I am most embarrassed about- how I had wrinkled my nose at the apparent lack of quality of the choreography and its doers, quality here being the extent of similarity between the subject of scrutiny and the cheerleading I used to do in rg.

The hours I wasted struggling with the notion of whether or not to quit, the fluctuations in my mood resulting in inane quarrels with the wrong people, the little nagging feeling of how everything would have been different IF I had chosen RJ, the passionate wishing that I could go back to RG and bask again in that intoxicating feeling of authority. Here, where I am better seen and not heard, where opinions that threaten to leap out of my mouth are forcibly pushed back into my throat; here indeed, seemed close to hell these few days.

Thankfully, I have learnt my lesson. Danceworks wasn't that bad or embarrassing, in fact, i wouldn't mind doing it again, even without me being the one shouting "5-6-7-8!"