Dairy of a dancing bear
What if I allow myself to plunge into the insanity lurking beneath the surface of my smile?
What if in being myself, I become someone else entirely?
What if civility is insanity and savagery is piety?
Am I just a dancing bear in a fancy suit?
Have I enslaved myself ? Chained to someone masses’ truth.
“Dance for the crowds,” I tell myself as I throw peanuts at myself from the balcony.
“Oh, how entertaining and how pitiful I am.
Someone should free me from me.