Secret Adventurer with an overwhelming sense of Melancholia. A Lover of Things Elusive. More than Willing to Soar through All of Time and Space to Embrace Joy. And besides all these grandiose ideas, just a lot of the inane that fills up a head not bound to the rules of a single timeline.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Discovering Every One is More Coordinated Than You Are
care of Nothing to do with Arbroath
I'm clumsy. Terribly so. It's such a sad state of affairs that people quite comfortably comment on it. My mom told me that she enrolled me in dance classes as a child to get me over my "awkwardness." A friend in high school told me I was the "clumsiest person I've ever known." Someone I reconnected with on facebook after more than a decade asked if I'd managed to seriously injure myself or someone else yet. I was able to detail several spills that resulted in trips to the hospital.
I've dreams of being sleek and lovely, of gliding when I move as if on air. It's not to be. The concept of balance is just simply foreign to me, and not a skill I'll ever master.
Unlike this alpaca who easily learned to surf against his will. Sigh.
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