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       Today is 07.05.2011 and the truth is: that:
I can't dance:     but I have to do it: especially
when I drink:  it grabs my hips: and: I shake in a
strange shiver:       which cannot be described as
completely chaotic - it can be recognized signs of
regularity in it   - sometimes I manage to bend my
knee at the right moment: or: I throw my shoulders
back behind my neck gracefully: and then:      the
happiness spreads my mouth in a devilish smile.
       I've always admired it. Surprisingly:   I'm
not such a self-eater: lest I be amazed at things:
which someone makes masterfully: while I: I do not
control them at all    - and there is not a slight
chance: that it could ever be otherwise - I am too
hard simply    - for any graceful movement: except
for an arcuate fall to the coccyx:    for example:
when someone takes a chair      from under my ass:
supposedly it looks beautiful:    when I fall into
space like this:  I'm not afraid: that I could act
hard:    I don't think of the audience: because: I
have no idea: that it's there. And this is exactly
what is important   - forget about people and fall
on your ass freely.
       But:      nothing prevents me from dancing:
nothing! Not even the scary picture: that: the old
man from the Video ROSA company called:        Our
wedding.
       Almost three hours:      there after a nice
slide show of student photos        and a peaceful
wedding in a quiet church:         I toss my hands
sharply: as if I were doing a deep mowing - then I
move my foot forward and then another -  I clap to
the beat above my head - and get dark-pink    from
verve to that movement: which I love - and I don't
control even a poppy.

       This is no longer true, never!!!        I'm 
fucking good dancer - Jay taught me:



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