jessenunez

The Audience

At what point do we know sanity is lost? Is there a bright flashing light with a number to call? Is there a welcome sign that reads “ here you may enter” ? Are you in a huge group, or held high at the center? Will I have to give my name, and explain how I got there? Will there be caution signs at the entrance, warning me to beware? How do I conduct myself, in what fashion do I act? Will they be able to tell me if I’ll ever come back? Will we all dance, write, and paint together? Do we still upkeep responsibilities in inclement weather? Do I have to pay my rent, or do I squat and wander? Will they look at me differently, knowing I am no longer? Are there ticket booths, where we buy admission to the show? Will I be part of the audience, main act, or the host? Can I still wear jeans, and plain black tshirts? Can I act out an event of violence, without anyone getting hurt? Or do I arrive only to be denied? Is this insanity only from pain inside? Am I lying to myself and everyone around me? Am I not insane after all, this feelings so astounding. Am I the audience or am I the host? I am the audience, I am the act, you are my host..