I give my life a standing ovation. For being with me, patiently, being a theatre, playground.
Orchestra playing for me, chorus singing acapella. To sew soul wound.
Bad and good days - private Broadway.
Opened only for me. Night and day.
A story. Going to the seaside, driving night time in the front seat to beloved south.
Imagining life be played by rules. Usually, I am only trying to. And just living out.
Or just living in. Deep in.
Naively hoping never to repeat that sin.
Little semi-game is like a theater play. On the too small stage of too big Broadway.
I know all behid-the-sceene-gossips. Superstar. No sorrow for new yesterday.
A broad way of living Giga.
With my old long-time-no-see amiga.
Those wooden boards on a stage are really annoyingly creaking.
Without a routine, without order. Way too noisy. Most of them almost speaking.
They are, on purpose, narrowing my routes.
When bearing me, wearing too big boots.
Improvisation. I'm improvising. Look: tra-la-la-la-la. Never got any instructions for this game.
But those Cats. I heard them. They gave me goosebumps, and they deserve their fame.
When trying to perform, so hard.
They stole entire me - my heart card.
Goosebumps all over. Lots and lots of them. And the bigger ostrich ones too. Memories.
Actors: forcing me to ask everybody "What. On. The. Stage. Is. This."?
Them. Singing The Most Beautiful Sound.
Me. Audience. Wanting another round.
My dancers, My singers, My theatre! Yeah, nothing more or nothing less than Arena style.
Fighting all fears, tears, all judgements, guilt, mistakes. Leaving them to mask and die.
Arena. Cruel. With gladiators.
The best beasts are survivors.
Death told me once, and I almost believed Her, that every day is a good day to die.
But I didn't believe Her. Nah! I do want my own life. Mine! Must give it a try.
To live and survive.
Just jump in and dive.
My precious V.I.P. loggia. Observing the whole drama from it. The whole Playground.
Updating some rules every day AND a scenario: scream into a whisper, sing into no sound.
I give my life double standing ovation. To My own Grotesque.
For buying me tickets and letting me won that audition: for comedy ordeal. Burlesque.
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