I close my eyes for a while and imagine the carousel back in the day .. colourful, beautiful, glamourous, enchanting. The prancing horses resemble pride and strength. I spot a rusted iron lever in the center of the stand. I walk towards it and with a huge struggle manage to push it down.
Very, very slowly the carousel starts moving. I make my way towards the closest seat. And I wait. The gears make a screaching sound and the music is antique, but the horses are ‘speeding up’. The flashing rainbow of lights are out of order and the mosaic of tiny mirrors reflecting the animation of movement around them, have all lost their shine.
‘Ride this dying carousel’ I remember Marilyn Manson’s words .. ‘Four rusted horses strangled by their own rope’. Hmm, I ponder. One horse chasing the others’ tail .. but never catching up. Going nowhere slowly.
I can relate. Chasing questionmarks, open ended questions .. with ever-evasive answers. At times, wishing to catch up with death. Just making the carousel stop. Just yearning for a reaction, whatever it may be.
But then you find yourself caught in this never-ending race. Trapped within the cycle. All I want to do is make it stop. I want to get off. If you aren’t here .. what then would be the point of it all? What then would be the point of life?
The sword of time will pierce our skins
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin
[Taken from ‘Suicide is painless’ by Marilyn Manson]
The carnival has ended centuries ago. Yet here I am .. waiting for you.
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