Cyclic
I'm becoming more and more convinced that life is a very elaborate, confusing and graceless dance. Every time I think I have a chance at becoming a beautiful dancer, I manage to trip over something and take out one of my knees. I picture it as ballroom, everyone dressed up in bouffant costumes, looking their best but wearing colours other than they think they are. There are wallflowers, or course, but not many. Most are caught up in the dance, weaving their stories in endless, intricate circles... changing partners, stealing a kiss, leaving the subtle smell of perfume behind and never stealing a backward glance.

New good song: Under the Milky Way. You really need the music for the full effect of this one : )