"We dance for laughter, we dance for tears. We dance for madness,
we dance for fears. We dance for hopes, we dance for screams. We
are the dancers; we create the dreams." --Anonymous
Name: Soferin [Sof-er-in]
Usually called Sof
Gender: Male
Her/his hobby:Dancing. Yes, it is not odd, and it is not something very few people do. But when passion catches you does it matter if what the passion enthrals itself over is aesthetically one of a kind? Or rather... If it makes you feel as if you are one of a kind?
In a busy room, with the noises making nervous feelings flitter, it's all a part of the performance. Without one bit of it it wouldn't be the perfectly appealing thing that it is. It wouldn't make him feel so rewarded in every breath pushed through him, in every moment.
In a silent hall, practicing by himself. Raising his body into the air, circling and skidding, just gently, over the reflecting floor. Waiting for nothing like an applause except for the bombardment of his convulsing heart through his ears, kicking at his chest like a hi-hat drum pedal, puncturing his ever shaky breathes.
It is a performance, an art. To stand and turn his body on an unnamed stage, legs rising above his own head and slamming onto the ground with a thump and steadying arms out to keep balance. Even the tumbling, the falling, turning, tripping, and breaking, and shaking... It is all alright. Because this is his obsession, what he's head over heels for... At time literally. Dancing makes him... not forget, but able to handle, whatever the world throws at him.
