We Deliver

I find very peculiar the vicious act of happiness done by clowns, the sleaze that load their maddening smiles when they look and entertains either close relatives or large forums acts.

 Strangely I think they are the most sincere figuration on these virtual and absent days. Ecstatically they enjoy their childhood  regressions with jeers and laughs celebrated by committed purchased applause.

Their painted multicolored outfits and painted faces resemble those exaggerated physical extents of mental constructions canceled by the human reality, violent and sudden exploding to the outside as exoskeletons surprising the observer in which is always a child that cries frightened or one other adult that with gets disappointed and leaves.

Unusually they stand with their huge shoes that hinder the correct walking and they used to kick and destroy everything around them, It seems that in their volatile and broken routine with no symmetry  or coordination the shoes are only thing that bring them down to earth, to this catastrophic world were smiles are less frequent every day.

I was silenced by the raw image behind the dressing rooms and tents, beyond the trucks without shoes,  giant clothes off, it was gray, serene half makeup on face, his red nose was fallen between several empty bottles on the asphalt. Like a disgraced priest that failed to emancipate these inanimate beings, robotic and emotionless people.

He rested his head and closed his eyes.