I am a magician in the greatest circus of the world. Each day I take myself out of my hat and place in front of you so that you could examine the wrinkled structure of my skin. The fears coiled at the bottom of my spine. The hopes trying to reach the sky like the balloons that a twelve year old child tried to sell to a half drunken crowd at 11 PM on the last night of the carnaval.
Sometimes I dig deeper in the hidden layers of my Jungian spheres of unconscious. I pulled out the feeling of insecurity the other day. It wore a sari and had long curly hair. We took the same bus together, but I decided to get down before seeing the turning face. The feeling left by the green DTC bus, but how much damage has it caused me in the past?
A rabbit of my low self-esteem was held by its otherwise dangling ears. He looked so funny in the center of the stage unable to squeak or move its legs while being held in the spot light. I let it hog on the grass as it began to complain about the pain at the back of the vertical axis of the body... or was it the horizontal axis of time? I heard him say that his back hurts.
I cast a spell and a street opened in the middle of the audience. The sign read it leads towards the eternal happiness, but my heart and feet chose to run over the black wire hissing, twisting and spiraling on its way to the lands of my dreams miles away from the reality.
I stood with eyes closed by the side of the street waiting for his arrival. My hand outstretched with a key to my heart, and that firm belief that one day he would return to find me. He would keep a gramophone to play the piano to the monkeys and I would follow him to the desert. And no... I will not see his FACE in a BOOK... He will come to say that he had seen me in a dream before. But they declared me mad and drove to the hospital instead.
Sometimes I dig deeper in the hidden layers of my Jungian spheres of unconscious. I pulled out the feeling of insecurity the other day. It wore a sari and had long curly hair. We took the same bus together, but I decided to get down before seeing the turning face. The feeling left by the green DTC bus, but how much damage has it caused me in the past?
A rabbit of my low self-esteem was held by its otherwise dangling ears. He looked so funny in the center of the stage unable to squeak or move its legs while being held in the spot light. I let it hog on the grass as it began to complain about the pain at the back of the vertical axis of the body... or was it the horizontal axis of time? I heard him say that his back hurts.
I cast a spell and a street opened in the middle of the audience. The sign read it leads towards the eternal happiness, but my heart and feet chose to run over the black wire hissing, twisting and spiraling on its way to the lands of my dreams miles away from the reality.
I stood with eyes closed by the side of the street waiting for his arrival. My hand outstretched with a key to my heart, and that firm belief that one day he would return to find me. He would keep a gramophone to play the piano to the monkeys and I would follow him to the desert. And no... I will not see his FACE in a BOOK... He will come to say that he had seen me in a dream before. But they declared me mad and drove to the hospital instead.
