Up and down we gently go
Round and around in a spell —
While the music softly plays
On the carousel.

Up and down on a summer night
Where smiles and laughter dwell
Astride a golden horse and lion
On the carousel.

We'll wave as the world goes by
And carry a tale to tell
Singing a song of childhood
On the carousel

It’s hard to tell myself,
that I'm nothing more than
a collection of possibilities.

I judge myself for my feelings,
I restrict my attitude to formality,
to avoid being hurt.

When I think that I am above,
comprehensible, intellectual…
I feel immersed in cold waters,
floating on the surface of my thoughts.

I accept and reject what the world offers me.
I express concepts to peel off
a layer of myself,
until reaching the black core.

I’m just afraid to swim on my back
not to sink into the soft mud.
My muscles are numbing under gravity.

I don’t want to return to my mental cage.
Hide again? Pretend?
Yes, I think I’m closer to myself
than I could have imagined.