The World is All But Fair

Time my classes end: 1:00pm
Time classes were suspended: 1:00pm

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In other news, dreaded exam is this Wednesday. I have accomplished 75% of all necessary preparations for the battle. I'm not sure if I have it all figured out though. That part makes up the 20%. The remaining 5% is the run-over of past lessons.

So let's all remember that pact.

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Wow, my blog is so meaningful---it's full of rants. And that, in itself, is another example.

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I wanna go home. I was thinking of going home this weekend but then there's two reasons I should stay put here:

1. DCF Alumni Homecoming on the 17th.
2. Ballet class

Perhaps I should be more willing to stay for the DCF activity but the ballet class is the one holding me back from home. Teacher Mylene even texted me saying she would love to see me in class again last Saturday before my killer 3p-8p exam. I miss the dancing (or should I say, attempts at dancing).

Talking about dance, I've started listening to I Can Only Imagine (Mercy Me) and trying out some steps. Kuya Butch texted a week ago asking me to choreograph it. Some people have said that December and the Christmas Cantata is way off, but trust me, the choreo process hates rush. I've been trying out steps for a week and I've come up with steps for the first stanza and the "climax chorus". I actually have two variations for the first stanza.

Problem is, while all steps fit the melody, they don't seem right. I don't feel I'm trying to tell a story when I perform the steps. I think it's because I've mainly sewn together steps I've learnt or seen, very mechanically, paying heed only to the music not to the message of the song.

The truth is, when I try to just "feel" the song, to try dance the message, I just stand there through most of the song. Choreographing the song this way has gotten me only as far as the FIRST line "I can only imagine, what it will be like to walk by your side." And guys, I hate standing still. Just like I hate it when I know I'm going through one of God's waiting rooms again.

That makes me try to come up with a dance on my own. Most of the time, I get something done. But it never fits.

So I guess this project needs more time in His waiting room again. It is His dance anyway. And I am His dancer.