There is freedom in writing.
The calendar on the wall is filled with strategically placed markings. I shimmy towards the mounted logbook and kicked, with style, my left leg before crossing out the box with a nine inside. “Today I shake, shake, shake!” Yes, today is the day that all the crossed out boxes lead towards. Today is November 9th; the day that my favorite dance inspired band will be in a town near me. As I look forward towards tonight I remember the hours upon hours I had spent moving my hips, legs, chest, and other various body parts to their music. I can’t help the smiles from coming to my face.
As the car moves closer towards Arizona’s capital every mile seems to add an extra layer of excitement. Finally we arrived, but of course we were early. I had the pleasure of watching, through the window, the band doing their sound checks. I t was amazing and I could feel the adrenaline pumping in my body. Slowly equally as excited people shuffle in. The crowd I see turns the night around. I immediately, upon entering the venue, feel uneasy. It wasn’t the age group or fashionable hipsters that turned my stomach; it was instead their numbers and eagerness. I had trouble the whole night through finding the self confidence to move with the crowd, and the more I stood still the more of an outcast I felt like. I eventually let go, and danced the night away but later that night my inhibition perplexed me.
I found that these things happen to me on a regular basis. However there is one place that I find complete confidence. In my written words I find honesty. I realize that anybody can conqueror any taboo thing by writing about it. Perhaps this is why many keep journals, and diaries. To me admitting my fears of the dance floor is something that I couldn’t do verbally and so I must say thank you to the written word.
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