As poetic as possible, 10 things I am grateful for:

  • the ability to sense sound and perceive music, for whether it be rain on a tin roof or bouncy bass beats, my brain take it upon its self to let it move me, through soul, spirit, mind, emotion, and physically manifesting;
  • my bodies ability to translate sound into movement and dance, and develop a language of intimacy between sound and my silhouette;
  • the ability to be open, vulnerable and courageous all in the same moment, because that is when love blossoms. And despite it hurting some times, it mostly feels so god damn good, that feeling of loving, freely, without discrimination, without prejudice, just pure love;
  • tropical weather, those monsoonal nights, when sweat drips from breast, my skin glows golden, supple, lightning pulses through the sky and sends shivers through my spine;
  • a family that extends beyond blood lines, national borders and stereotypes, where the love web is created, sustained, and supported, with strength and resilience;
  • my fingers, these fingers that convey thoughts in my mind, into poems on paper, love letters, Facebook status updates on computer screens, these fingers that can caress soft skin, lift a flower to my nose so I can inhale its perfume, these fingers that are open of hand and heart;
  • flowers, because they make me really happy, can evoke an array of emotions and feelings with a smell or sight;
  • artists, poets, musicians, writers, film makers… all the story tellers of the world, who share their gifts, their hearts, their pain, their stories, and their ability to make me feel, to connect;
  • tattoos and that feeling of ink under skin, that hot itch, the stories of ink, the stories of their expression;
  • uni holidays, days of reading for pleasure and play, not filling my brain with statistics and an idea of “truths” that come semesters end, seem to disappear.
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