I stand in front of my mother- begging her. Please pay for another dance lesson.

I can’t live without it. I crave the feeling of spinning through the air…

And on the other side, on the other side is a cocaine addict; it’s driven him to the streets.

He sits there begging earnestly for money. He needs it to buy more drugs.

He can’t live without it. The elevated feeling as though he’s spinning through the air…

The physical trainer is telling me that dance has really worn out my feet…

The one thing I rely on in life is hurting me? Unbelievable.

The pain is excruciating… And on the other side… On the other side,

The beggar is at the hospital. The doctor tells him he will die in a few years

He must give up cocaine. What? The one thing that covers up his pain

The one thing that helps him get through life is what’s slowly but surely killing him?

Impossible.

The pain is overwhelming…and on the other side…

On the other side I grab my left leg and pull it over my head

It’s a talent. I do it with such elegance and poise that I make it look simple.

And on the other side… On the other side the man sits on a bench behind a large tree.

A scale in his hand, he quickly measures each bag of dope. He nimbly bundles it

Securely tying it.

He can wrap it in 3 seconds flat. He does it so stylishly that it looks simple.

And on the other side… On the other side I can make a living from dance.

And such happiness money provides.

Is dance my addiction?

I should use my talent to make lots of money, mounds of money…

And on the other side…His only talent, all he knows is selling cocaine.

It brings him peace to sell a tiny bag and feel the smooth stack of bills in his hand.

The smell is so tantalizing. The look is so appealing.

Is heroine his addiction? More importantly are addictions so bad?

On the same side the beggar and I simultaneously finger the money in our pockets

Such giddiness.

We finger our real addictions and enjoy the euphoria that comes along…

Along with the attainment of our cravings.