I've danced in the biggest cities. Tokyo, New York, Paris, Athens...In Berlin they called me Marina, in Stockholm Viktor, in Moscow Dimitri. My Japanese names where my favourite. Sakura. Hiroshi. Kiyoshi. I used to think I can grasp the world, then I believed I can grasp its cities. But you could only be larger than life. Never a city.
And so I danced.
In Greece I was Diego García. I used to paint my nails black, wear a Kimono and carry a fan. Remember my fan? It was a gift by Prince Peter of Greece. Prince Peter is now six feet under of course, and his name is long gone, but back in the day he was a big flirt. He had three kids and people spoke of his fourth child with some pretty insignificant actress. Word has it that prince Peter had one hundred and seventy lovers. Imagine that! All those beautiful boys and girls.
Do you think that there are people who can fake intimacy with everyone? I feel like you could fall in love with anyone, really...Or do you think he was running from something? Sometimes you try to hide so hard that you eventually forget you re hiding.
___________
I've been feeling lightheaded today. I saw you looking for another lover. I guess that's the price I'm paying for dancing, but I really can t stop it. I want to but I can't. Sometimes my legs take control and they wont stop until my knees break into tiny little metal pieces. Forgive me but I never learned how to say no. How to rationalise attention.
I remember this one time -I think I was seven- my mom was in the kitchen cooking those tasteless things she cooks, when she suddenly started screaming. She had cut her index finger with the kitchen knife and the blood wouldn't stop running. She put the finger in her mouth and looked at me smiling. Everything was ok but I was terrified.
That night I started having this terrible nightmare. I was locked in my dad's car shouting to the people passing by, trying to make them pay attention to me, let me out. Nobody did, though. Pay attention...The next morning I woke up screaming. Mom was at work, dad was sleeping. My brother called me a pussy and shut the door. And I cried and cried. I remember feeling abandoned.
Do you think that is how prince Peter felt? Do you know how he died? He died of a broken heart. Apparently he loved his princess more that anyone could think. She left him, of course.
Do you think he loved her more than I love you? Probably.
___________
And to finish with this nonsense, I've seen you stressed and I've seen you happy. Your tongue has gone through my most intimate parts. I still fantasise your dominant breath and your fragile heartbeat. But your problem was that you thought you can go whenever you want, however you won't until I decide to let you. Or that's what I tell myself.
I know you will understand me. I only chose to leave when everything was ruined. I was brought to this world the moment I realised the fragility of my own existence. But now I have to go.
Now leave. It's late and I still have some matters to take care of.
It would be wonderful to say I regret everything. Farewell my friend...
And so I danced.
In Greece I was Diego García. I used to paint my nails black, wear a Kimono and carry a fan. Remember my fan? It was a gift by Prince Peter of Greece. Prince Peter is now six feet under of course, and his name is long gone, but back in the day he was a big flirt. He had three kids and people spoke of his fourth child with some pretty insignificant actress. Word has it that prince Peter had one hundred and seventy lovers. Imagine that! All those beautiful boys and girls.
Do you think that there are people who can fake intimacy with everyone? I feel like you could fall in love with anyone, really...Or do you think he was running from something? Sometimes you try to hide so hard that you eventually forget you re hiding.
___________
I've been feeling lightheaded today. I saw you looking for another lover. I guess that's the price I'm paying for dancing, but I really can t stop it. I want to but I can't. Sometimes my legs take control and they wont stop until my knees break into tiny little metal pieces. Forgive me but I never learned how to say no. How to rationalise attention.
I remember this one time -I think I was seven- my mom was in the kitchen cooking those tasteless things she cooks, when she suddenly started screaming. She had cut her index finger with the kitchen knife and the blood wouldn't stop running. She put the finger in her mouth and looked at me smiling. Everything was ok but I was terrified.
That night I started having this terrible nightmare. I was locked in my dad's car shouting to the people passing by, trying to make them pay attention to me, let me out. Nobody did, though. Pay attention...The next morning I woke up screaming. Mom was at work, dad was sleeping. My brother called me a pussy and shut the door. And I cried and cried. I remember feeling abandoned.
Do you think that is how prince Peter felt? Do you know how he died? He died of a broken heart. Apparently he loved his princess more that anyone could think. She left him, of course.
Do you think he loved her more than I love you? Probably.
___________
And to finish with this nonsense, I've seen you stressed and I've seen you happy. Your tongue has gone through my most intimate parts. I still fantasise your dominant breath and your fragile heartbeat. But your problem was that you thought you can go whenever you want, however you won't until I decide to let you. Or that's what I tell myself.
I know you will understand me. I only chose to leave when everything was ruined. I was brought to this world the moment I realised the fragility of my own existence. But now I have to go.
Now leave. It's late and I still have some matters to take care of.
It would be wonderful to say I regret everything. Farewell my friend...
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