When I was much younger, I used to love merry-go-rounds. I’d choose a different coloured shiny horse every time and I’d sit on its back, listening to the endless carnival tune, watching the lights and mirrors and the world going by as I spun round and round. Then the ride would end and if I wished I could just stay where I was or sit on a different horse or just get off.
How do I get off this one, though?
Things begin and end. People come and go. Life cycles and recycles. And you’re spun round and round. Over and over and over again.
What? Did you really think you were eventually getting somewhere? What a beautiful delusion.