yixing snippet

[alaeaureae.livejournal.com]

[…]

You dance, but you tire. You rest, and it seems so far away. You think about the stage, you think about nursery songs, and you think about your father. You think about hands in your hands and hands on your back and arms pulling you close and people screaming, screaming, screaming—screaming not for you, but for those who stand beside you. Someone squeezes your hand. There’s a sea of lights, of pearlescent blue. Close your eyes, some day they’ll scream for you.

Not yet.

So you practice. You train. You work hard. You work harder. You work your hardest, and then you work even harder. You’re not alone. You’re not the first. One, ten, a hundred years ago maybe there would be something monumental about this. But you don’t notice it.

Maybe, just maybe, it’ll fall apart if you do.