Do you know what? I don’t want to be a part of the circus anymore. Where my feelings are conveyed by an act, but all they see is humour. Laughing loud and clear, every part of my body have contempt within. I fear love will again someday take me from me, and all I will be left is with sorrow and distress.
Why is life so difficult? Why am I always following the same pattern? Where I give myself to somebody too soon and cry over their words. Words do affect me I understand, worshipping them led me to a different self. They affect me in a way that I lighten up when used with glitter and smile, I maim when used with rage in the eyes.
But when I talked to him I felt a sensation that he’ll believe in me, here am I standing alone again thinking I am so easy. To get, to be, to have, where is every mastery gained from the history. I don’t want history to repeat itself, I don’t want to be a part of a circus anymore.