So, as I'm balancing on this ball, sweat dripping off my face and onto my shiny shoes... I begin to wonder if this is how I am supposed to be. Juggling makes my arms weak and sometimes I just want to walk away, but I feel like it makes everyone happier... and sometimes myself. The paint on my face feels like plastic wrap and it's slowing suffocating me. The bleeds down into my eyes and makes me lose my balance.

I am walking mazes within this tent still searching for my soul. Finding pieces but not the whole.