My realm of experience is my body; everything I carry within this body is not independent from each other.

Everything effectuated within myself opens the way for understanding the other, as an intimate transition.

Because in my realm of experience, there is nothing apart from me, I am not in control. But that's okay. There is a beautiful anarchy inside of me under the influence of great existence—the only, eternal order.

And I cannot be something beyond the limits of my mind and body; I can only add or subtract things from what already exists.

As I drift, I give meaning to the space I immerse myself in and experience what I can or cannot do for myself. I experience it as if there is nothing else I can do—an unaltered, raw, instinctive desire to exist. And in reality, I know that this desire is a premise embodied in all beings. A premise of existence.

Like a dancer being  encompassed by a predetermined choreography, being able to manifest oneself with a specific identity only within this choreography. Interpreting one's own existence into the choreography. Like identity being an interpretation of existence.                                                                                                                                                                                     So I Dance Like a...