Dairy of a dancing bear

What if I allow myself to plunge into the insanity lurking beneath the surface of my smile?

What if in being myself, I become someone else entirely?

What if civility is insanity and savagery is piety?

Am I just a dancing bear in a fancy suit?

Have I enslaved myself ? Chained to someone masses’ truth.

“Dance for the crowds,” I tell myself as I throw peanuts at myself from the balcony.

“Oh, how entertaining and how pitiful I am.

Someone should free me from me.