Light back in my life

I'm dancing again.

Thank God.

It's like water to a thirsty desert, light to a creature in darkness, morphine to one who's in pain.
It's a soothing balm to my soul.

And yet, it's a flame that's ignited and now consumes everything in its path. It's the frustration of desiring and never having, dreaming and never achieving.

It's pain and pleasure. It's my sanity and my madness. It keeps me going, it wears me down. It's manic excitement, it's mundane waiting. It's joy and despair.

Where would I be without dance in my life?

Actions Speak For Themselves

Throwing my two cents into the whole Islamic-cartoons-in-Danish-newspaper fiasco...

Has anyone ever mentioned the thought that the actions of the Muslims certainly speak for themselves?

Over a few cartoons, these people (admittedly a fanatical segment of them) have burnt flags and buildings, damaged public property, beat up and even KILLED innocent people who look white or remotely Danish.

Do they deserve the perceptions suggested in the cartoons?

It's said that in every rumour there's a grain of truth. How apt. Those cartoons would not have come about if there weren't any truth or basis in them at all.

Can they not see that they're reaffirming the world's perception of them by their own behaviour and reaction now?

There are always diplomatic, constructive channels to address the offence. There's much that can be resolved through talks, peaceful demonstrations, writing official complaints and economic action. What exactly do throwing rocks and burning flags achieve but the scorn and satisfaction of their supposed enemies who now feel justified in their low opinion of Muslims?

Peace-loving? Or violent?

Accepting? Or intolerant?

Civilised? Or barbarians?