I never liked the circus growing up. My mother took me to a circus once when I was young. I used to think that the animals wanted to be free and to train them and make them perform was cruel. Now I can relate to those poor animals.
More than ever I feel like a circus horse. A wild horse that was happy grazing the mountains, captured by the net of love and forced into submission. Every time the horse tries to escape her trainer, she is faced with the fact that he may be the best thing that has happened to her. But she is broken, she has been tamed to be what he/others expects her to be.
Life is that circus and I am merely a small part of it. The audience come and go and every time I’m on stage, I try to impress them. Well, I’m tired. I’m exhausted. Trying to please others is no longer pleasing to me.
All the craziness around me, is overwhelming. I want out.
