I felt like I was on a carousel.

All of the girls stopped and looked at me when I made this comparison. They didnt seem to understand why this was a bad thing.

Carousels are usually assosiated with all that is chipper and happy. With fairy floss and lollipops.

But thats just it. Im on a carousel, and it seems so great. The music is charming and the horses are beautiful, and the sky is blue, the pace is one of contentment, and nothing is stopping me.

But it goes around and around. It becomes too content. The repitition is such that its all I can do not to wish that one of the horses would neigh, or come to life and gallop into the distance with me on its back, spontenaety, jubilee, triumphantly.

Stopping the monotony.

I have nothing to complain about. A carousels a far stretch from a bad life.

But its a far stretch from a good one.

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