Dance

When I was 9, my music teacher told us that music is the language of the soul. Music is the universal language. Dance is an expression of your emotions.

Hmmm...

I am not a good dancer. My life-partner of 10 years, going 11 years, always tells me that I dance bad... Kadiri... Masagwa. Well, she is a good dancer. I always wanted to see her dance but I never had the chance to see her dance fully. I was never there during her company dance shows. Sad. But I know, she dances well. She dances great. She is very beautiful when she dance.

My youngest brother is a very good dancer. From classic to modern to metal to punk to hip-hop. He's good. Very good. One time in college, when I went home for a vacation, he even volunteered to teach me how to do the back-dive. With my big beer belly? Back-dive my ass.

When I am drunk, I dance. Dance till I fell down. When the music is so good. Dancing is no problem. Dancing is just 1-2-3.

Just listen to the music. Feel it. Sway to the music. Listen to what it says. Feel it. Just sway. Move slowly. Then when you got the feel of it... move... sway... clap. That's dancing.

In my previous company, we had this December party. Everyone on the floor, dancing, drunk. I was on the floor. Swaying, dancing... drunk but very happy. One pretty little girl pushed around everyone with me on the dance floor because she said she wanted to dance with me. Wow. I didn't realize that I got her attention because of my dancing. I was not good. I was just dancing. Listening and feeling the beat. Just swaying.

I want to dance. I want to forget my problems and burdens and just dance.

Dance ... but dancing is not complete without a partner. Dancing with that girl during our December party was something. Everyone's looking at us. Who the hell I was dancing with this girl?

Sorry, Boys... I just want to dance.

Let's dance again, baby.