this morning #2315.

this morning, in the name of art, i’d found myself down in the town square. a small collection of onlookers formed around me as i hung up my sign, turned on the music & began to dance. slowly at first. a soft chant. my eyes shut tight. my arms swaying from side to side as the sound of a melancholy violin filled the air. i’d rehearsed this piece dozens of times in the privacy of my bedroom but now that i was finally performing it in public, i found myself overcome with emotion. as the violin faded away & the drums took charge, i began to stomp my feet to the beat. opened my eyes up wide & began to scream. over & over again. BEING SOFT IS HARD. BEING SOFT IS HARD. noticed that the crowd, who’d been backing away from my stomping, stopped their withdrawal & watched.