This piece is a collaboration between Pixie Bruner and I. She can be found here at her Substack. (2) Pixie Bruner | Substack
Welcome to the circus
Welcome to the freak show
Welcome to the modern age
Where you can be anything you want
Even beyond reason, refuting science
You can live out any fantasy under the Big Top
All you need is money and they provide the popcorn
Bread and circuses? No, we want fresh hot popcorn
At least 10 different varieties all it costs is your soul
Where horrors hide in plain sight or don’t even hide anymore
Welcome to the Big Top where nothing quite makes sense
Welcome to the circus we call life
Don’t worry some of the clowns are harmless but many aren’t
But we’ve given them a platform anyways
We gave them a balancing pole and a tightrope and made them walk all while jeering
They spout their hate filled rhetoric while dancing to the delusional soundtrack in their own heads
But people with no purpose listen in and absorb their message
The beaten and downtrodden flock to their message of purpose
As do the affluent and the influential
All attendees filling the spectacle seats unthinkingly Doomscrollers seeking answers and guidance
Embrace the chaos it’s the only way to survive in this circus
Welcome to the circus where the Big Top holds two parties and two parties only
Two parties in ever changing multiple rings under technicolor lights
Spouting hate and rhetoric shouting with their forked snake tongues
While the masses lap it up with artificial butter flavoring made from seed oils
Poisoning the body, and poisoning the mind
Welcome to the circus
Welcome to the chaos
Welcome to the land of false prophets, pipe dreams, and undeliverable promises
The Big top has room for it all
Welcome to the land of hypocrisy
Where money is the only thing that truly talks
Where sex sells and sponsors abound
Where misinformation is king
You’re searching for an exit
Hate to tell you this but they sewed the doors shut long ago
Now they triple stitched and reinforced with Kevlar thread
No one ever gets out, after all why even leave infinite popcorn and infinite showtime are all yours under the Big Top?
There is no exit anymore
We’re all born to live, die, suffer, and hopefully possibly survive under the big top
There is no true escape only temporary stays from all the bullshit under the big top planning the future under the bleachers
We’re dreaming big of a better future
Down here, down ankle deep in the sawdust and manure
Where hopefully the goal of freedom and possibility can take root and grow.
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