I used the graph to make this.
The smell of pink cotton
candy, funnel cakes, buttered
popcorn fills the air. The sky
shades of rose colored wisps,
an ever changing painting,
slowly dims. The heavy ozone
scent near the bumper cars fills
the air as the zap tap tapping
of electricity dances rhythmically
against the flickering of carnival
lights. Reminisce. Crisp candied
apples-- a father hoists her daughter
on his shoulders. Pigeons coo softly.
Twirling melodies, everything spin
spin spinning as though in a giant wind
up music box. Here inside, the outside
neither exists nor matters. Sadness,
depression mere illusions of a magic fun house
mirror, distorted, concave, convex.
I have wasted my time.
Cris
16:42
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