Yeah I'm aware I haven't written here in the longest time; and trust me, it's not that there's nothing interesting in the Performing Arts department in my life to blog about ( well, maybe it's a little true). But I will say here that updates won't be as often as it once was.
But don't worry, as I will never abandon this blog, just as I will never abandon performing arts in my life.
If you've read my few previous posts, you'll know that it all has one thing in common: Mr Gino Miranda, my late ballet teacher.
So I'm sorry to tell you that this post will not be very different.
I just came across a post in Tumblr about what happens when we die as told by mediums. I can say that I'm a borderline superstitious person, as I've never really had a brush with 'the other side', as some might call it. But I'm open minded towards it.
One of the answered questions were:
Can the dead hear me?
Yes, they can hear you all the time all your thoughts/feelings, even though you might not be able to hear them. Your loved ones maybe close to you as the air that surrounds you. They are not gone, they are just at another place.
And though I may have my doubts in the supernatural, that answer just sent a sense of contentment over me. Like I could literally feel as if a calming wave suddenly brushed through me on the inside.
For some reason it just felt calming and really assuring knowing that Gino had heard everything I've said to him. Yet, as I'm writing this, I realised that I also feel a sense of disappointment that there was no way for him to give me an answer. None that I know of, that is, unless you don't count the time a rainbow appeared after I asked him for a sign that everything was gonna be alright.