As time passes by, life seems to become a lot like a Ferris wheel.
Constantly going in circles.
When I am up, the world is a beautiful place.
When I am down, it is freakishly too close to the ground.
Feel like my feet will get injured if I don’t avoid the floor.
When I am up, I can taste the cotton candy smell in the air.
I can almost feel the clouds.
When I am up I can look down without feeling fearful because the excitement of being so close to heaven brings me peace.
Life is a circus.
People around me are clowns.
No clown make up, but they are always putting on a show.
Others are as beautifully hearted as the children who visit the circus.
Life is a Ferris wheel. Society is a circus. Existing is being on a roller-coaster that stops abruptly.
Being born is a ticket into a amusement park.
We bump into several customers in this park called Life.
We spend years running from a ride to another.
Sometimes rides are intense and we scream to get off.
We just have to wait until its time for us to get off and go on another.
Long lines, patience.
Being born. an eternal entrance.