I love dancing. I love flamenco. Technically I know I am good but sadly, I don’t quite have that passion yet. I have seen many flamenco shows both actual and in videos. I know it is a passionate dance but I understood for the first time what the dance is all about.
In Seville a few months back, i watched a tablao performance of flamenco in Casa del Memoria. Not the balletic flamenco of Sara Baras. Not the explosive flamenco of Maria Pages. But the the passionate flamenco that comes from the soul, the flamenco that has duende.
It was absolutely so frenetic, so passionate, so hot. I was horny watching her dance. I imagined her naked and writhing in bed. And the man – he was smouldering and so full of vitality. You imagine how the lovemaking would be like. You imagine splayed legs and thrusting hips and tongue all over. Hot and heavy.
Coupled with the wine, it made me heady. Good thing I was with O. If it were another I might have agreed to a one night stand. *wink*
And I thought about it. Could I do that? Could I dance with abandon? Could I shed my inhibitions? Yet, that is the part of me that I try to bury in order to succeed in this life. I am afraid to let go. I am afraid of the consequences.
Yesterday was networking time; catching up with old acquaintances and making new acquaintances. It was fun, heady and interesting. But by mid afternoon, my head was starting to throb, my face starting to tire from all the smiling and being animated.
Dinnertime was spent alone. Despite the lousy tenderloin and wine, I thoroughly enjoyed the solitude as I took stock of the day. It rained hard in the middle of my dinner, but I was not worried. And by the time I had finished, there was only a slight drizzle. It was a nice walk back to the hotel.
I enjoy meeting new people and exchanging ideas. Starting a conversation is never a problem for me. Approaching strangers at a party is also not a problem. I truly enjoy getting to know people. But at the end of the day such interactions sap my strength and I need the comfort of solitude to replenish my energy. Alone in my hotel room, I watched the news and stared at the ceiling. I slept relatively early at 10.30 and woke up around 6.30 feeling refreshed despite the lumpy bed and pillow. I was amazed at how energetic I felt.
It is true, I am an introvert. Being alone with my thoughts feeds my soul.
I was at a party. This couple joined our table. The wife is supposed to be pretty but on that day, i didn’t see the beauty. Her caky foundation spoiled her face. The kind of foundation I usually see applied to a dead person, very pale and splotchy. Her eyebrows were so obviously painted on. She is not fat but her choice of attire did not do her justice. Her big arms were highlighted and her waist hidden. O told me I looked younger than her. And she is a good 14years younger than me.
That night I saw her post photos from the party. Lo and behold! Her selfie showed a porcelain beauty smiling beguilingly at the camera. Her face was flawless and she looked like she had no make-up on. Even her eyebrows came out natural looking. And the angle of the selfie made her lose inches on her arms. Slim and beautiful, I could not reconcile what was on Facebook and what I saw in person earlier.
Goes to show that photos posted online are not reliable.