Circus Of Fostered Notion

Usually this isn't so stressful to think. Except for moments like now. No. I'm not talking about an emotion, a feeling or a joust. I'm talking about rapture. Stark. Naked like expression, flowing in the wind, roaming about frenzy in a will to be embraced by any damned that extends his hand.

I don't have any idea what to write of these days (on blog). Social commentary, no matter how raunchy and interesting, but still becomes lifeless. Moving over to short story, well mum says that my sense of expression (streamline of thought or a cynical diatribe) is a bit too dry (as it is meant to be) and hence devoid of the true essence of expression, which she believes is emotion (I do not agree to that, though). So, I think I'll start commenting about random things (that's what I do on twitter (@NeetziDelta. if you'd like to know), and it works there) and silently wait for criticism and judgement.

I believe we all have an idea, which is from an external factor. It influences you, ONLY if you let it become an inspiration, if you let it enter your mind through other ways. It's like those few things which you can't get out of your head. As if, this child possesses a key to your house and comes and goes and roams about his/ her own will.

Once, in the middle of a concert, such an idea came to me. That band (my favorite, POTF), had put up their show, but as usual, they spoke in poetic yarns, and most of their songs focus around carnivals, circus, and wonders (in a diatribe of the kind of lives we lead, moving about a yarn for our own selves). So, that's where the idea of circus was firmly planted in my head. Coming to think of it, a similar experience was there when we were studying this poem by Shakespeare, "All the World's a Stage". A minor character, Touchstone gives this jest where he compares human life to characters of a long term play.

The poem was somewhere when I was thirteen and the concert was in November '11. But, that feeling, that eternal carnival remains... I don't know. I wrote two poems on it (I never share poetry on blog, so don't even ask), I wrote a diatribe (not really worth a post) and went on about a rant. Now, I think I'll rant about an eternal circus here too. PAY CLOSE ATTENTION!

GREETINGS my audience and I your humble entertainer, the light above me shines brighter than my own bright tone of adress to you! And Jesuits, among other bards, you are welcome to be entertained as well! Yes, step right up folks; be prepared, for everyone's on to be entertained!

Here stands the Ring Master! THE ONE WHO HAS POWER O'ER THE LION! The Circus works at his command! He is the one, and the all, his pride and his noted over the top laughter!

If you look over that corner, the world is feigning with laughter (and delight), the mirror of madness, and colorful tresses of the clowns, the jests, the fools! Ay, no show can beat that wonder of the clowns, my friends, and hope you won't agree more...

There's more to today’s evening, as the clowns proceed, to your entertainment, the mimes have agreed! Devoid of color and full of expressions, yes dearies, they are the meaningful dementia! They move silent and rampant, among you in riddles, figure-it-out or what? They are the moral sins, for how quiet and deadly and addictive they are... A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!

But look above and look up wide! The acrobats, my audience! Yes, up there, doing wonders, and down here, twisted and bent and smiling, and pleasant and full of awe they are...

Together this circus puts up a great show...

It's just like any other conversation, right? Waiting for someone to decipher it. Got the guts, my audience?

PEACE

-Neetzi