The truth of the matter is, that it is far too liberating and binding at the same time; to the extent that I am at constant unease. I'm euphoric but my nerves are on high alert, my stomach is giddy, but my head is steady. I'm so much awake that I might break a step. There is so much futility, that it creates utility.
Oh it's such a rush!
You know what is so sad about the joker? Only he understands the funniness of the situation, and only he can laugh at it. And even though he wears the clown face, people mistake his bearings for hysteria. He's drunk, he's drunk. I can today laugh with him, but I could cry out loud too, I'm sure. He wasn't even supposed to be in this post, you know, it had nothing to do with him. But then, suddenly, it had everything to do with him.
Oh it's such a rush!
