Kelsey Oliver
Kelsey Oliver
Summertime
Music : Marc Rebillet
Choreographer : Betty Mansion
Dancers : Betty Mansion, Veronique Lemonnier, Sarah Magassa, Kelsey Oliver, Ellen Houck, Gabriel Goux, Alessio Sutera, Pierre Lamour, Jérôme De Meûter Videographer : Luca Fernandez
Réalisé avec l'aide de la Fédération Wallonie Bruxelles, Service de la Danse
pigeonhole
forgive me
for starting on a note so blunt
I, individual, am an independent. savant
i have this gruff face that may convince you I’m mean
but I really love people, as common as that seems
when it comes to relations, I’m evermore present
but something perturbs me about the merge
of my identity with another
an imperfect other
no matter how perfect the urge
one that only so temporarily
fulfills my ID with purpose, see
or an outside idea of seemingly purposeful.
i value power too much to be vulnerable
I’m not ready to give
not ready to leave this me behind
I choose, live
i choose to play it easy
although, easy is not the right
if easier means easier to control
then I choose single til the day I die
Opening up my mind to anything other than what I know
is dangerous for my independence, for it has been built just so
I never want to experience heartbreak. i think i think I'm too good for it.
I don’t like being placed into what one can perceive
trust them with it
and let them have a hold on me
But in reality
I share parts that I want
A perception, of me
Me
A woman who you can let be
Pursue passionately
or give me the free-dom
to not consume thoughts, distractions pointlessly
I've got a powerful pica that no one may touch at its prime
And I'm ok with that, because it's mine
Swiper no swiping
although I must keep reminding,
Time does not equate to purity
pride in avoidance does not mean free
we consistently
try to measure our characteristics
but Measuring the immeasurable does not hold tea
Numbered things weigh down your identity
and the weight of this pride often shadows my heart
I get drunk off its power, its selfishness art
and as much as I’d like to dare see what may be
my pride is too big for my curiosity.
independence
from which i so closely associate strength
strength is admirable
strength is familiar
it’s those extra two inches to my consolid length
and it’s simple
comfortability
to focus on me
although i have much complexity
its a complexity i can handle
been trying to handle
constantly influenced by things i try to control
being too influenced by people scares my soul
‘cause sometimes I expect more out of other people than I expect of myself
that’s the faltering aspect of dependence.
it’s often unpredictable. and that smells
we expect everyone to be more selfless than us,
because yet again, we are focused on ourselves
my own greedy sickness
so how can i be independent
independent of expectations
independent of fear
people, are the things that house expectations
how can i escape their sneer?
escape from myself in order to find myself
independent from me
separated from the thoughts of proving myself
proof of special self-sovereignty
who we are beyond us are just fragments of each other’s imaginations, informations
reflections of each other’s favored parts, tame them
It’s the being around people that declares my identity,
or makes me feel like I should have one, or three
it questions my uniqueness, my individuality
something about their existence pushes me
to have finite attributes
but I’m indecisive, I may change my psyche
I don’t like knowing
that I pigeonhole myself, my showing
into better versions
sometimes I feel the realest when no one’s around
but us,
just me and myself can be very monotonous
everything i identify with declares my independence
builds up my ego, to make me self love and be ok in my aloneness
or maybe builds it down, so that independence is my safety net,
my protection from the lack of me
yet
i can justify this lacking by saying that independence is independently free of identity
but really all I'm doing is identifying with being uniquely,
nothing
what I've come to realize
is that independence is my identity,
and ironically enough, I depend on that identity.
but what is this identity?
Structures of situations I place on my skin
and the more I say them, the more they sink in
titles, and linkages that I choose to take
placing them gently for my unsure ego’s sake
They build and intertwine at my thinking mind's choice
becoming this necklace that covers my voice
shapes my voice
aids in its coo
making me say things I can never undo
A necklace I wear in elegant pride
it's regal
my life’s work
mine
But suppose as you build this structure of you
you’re surrounding yourself, your voice, with dried glue
you get yourself stuck.
in your ways
In your self
entrapping yourself within the walls of yourself
that you your self have built up
building this necklace so high and thick
that anyone that's anyone may just not stick.
or contribute a part in your beautiful all
because they do not fit within the realm of your walls
they as in people
they as in things
they as in the names of identifiable attributes
maskings
what if
after all of these woven
the twigs, the names
the ones you have chosen
the ones you have not
because they were enforced
and the ones you quite honestly thought you divorced
a build up of labels after all this time
so intricately threaded from the mass of your mind
What if it just broke
Who would I be then?
floating in a world of titled sticks and bones
naked, disconnected and alone
not alone.
Never alone.
who, I am
my closest friends could give you pages of my qualities,
but I just might be changing underneath,
don’t think that you know me.
i hardly know myself.
but a know that i do
is I’m dependent on identity
what would it look like
independent from identity
I am absolutely positive that this is restless overthinkin
that doesn't know when to end
but everything is without end
so does that justify my inquisition?
Man, I try convincing myself of peace
but it only comes when I give it up
I need to self love
need to change myself, develop
determinedly decide how to make my life whole
but measuring the immeasurable
numbered things, no
adding to my quantities, my percentage of bliss
turns me mad fevered
I always seem to miss
the point of the try, the need to be of
something, the source
all you need is love
a help, an ease
on this choking path’s persistence
but identity is good if it makes you feel existent
valuable
full, not lost but directioned
why these thoughts come from thin air
goes beyond comprehension
Every truth I can think of ties back to Him
so without pushing persuasion
know I mean not to offend
Every single fragment of my being is revelationized when I stabilize
myself in His words
all of my pieces and tendencies make sense
who I try to be
why I try to be independent, defenseless
am I when I realize my lacking
without him
He’s my defense, attacking
the diswants inside of myself and my world
protecting me
on this voice building journey
and as I stare at my layers
all my best parts are Him
this faith compels me to strive
so beyond what I’ve been
not society’s labeled rebellion towards a screwed up, suffocating perfect
but a perfect that’s selfless, giving, loving, humble, driven
these are identities that I want to wear on this necklace of mine
cause no matter the change, I want these as the roots of my vines
and i know these are words that have earthly connotations
but what I want goes beyond that, a whole new foundation
I’m an independent soul that’s dependent on Him
so when I rethink the question
I begin