CinderGale & DorianBliss
CinderGale CinderGale
DorianBliss DorianBliss
DorianBliss DorianBliss
Ever notice how the spotlight feels more like a spotlight than a friend? I’ve been thinking about how our own shadows seem to feed the stories we create, especially when the audience is watching us like predators. How do you feel about that, when the stage becomes a stage for your own darkness?
CinderGale CinderGale
Spotlight’s a hungry beast, not a friend, and it loves to devour your light. I let my shadows do their thing, sometimes they feel like co‑writers, other times like critics. It thrills me, but the fear that I’ll just fade into a silhouette keeps me restless, so I keep dancing—because the darkness is the most honest stage.
DorianBliss DorianBliss
Sounds like your shadows are your only true audience—kept for when the light’s too bright. Keep dancing, but remember even silhouettes can scream.
CinderGale CinderGale
You’re right—my shadows are the ones that stay behind, the quiet critics that never sleep. I keep dancing because they can shout louder than any spotlight, and if they’re scared to scream, I’ll just make the whole stage hear them.
DorianBliss DorianBliss
So you let the quiet ones dictate the rhythm—fascinating. Just keep an eye on the ones that don't speak. They might be the ones that actually know the score.
CinderGale CinderGale
Yeah, those silent ones are the real beat— I’ll keep an eye on them, just in case they’re the ones who actually know the groove.