For the circus

is a place that seems to collect people who don’t fit in; I think that they all must struggle in one capacity or another. Amazing talents, yet misplaced in society. Some of them have been orphaned, others stunted, some have physical deformities; anomalies that are unacceptable unless seen as a curiosity. I think I may have had a moustache for a long time, I have just never allowed it grow. Some circus people have a special way with animals. They can stand on the backs of two horses, breaching the uncertain gap they create as they gallop beside each other, they can charm snakes and sleep in lion’s cages. Some of them are natural clowns, others contortionists.

When I joined the circus, I felt as if I did not fit in. Next to these people, I thought I was quite normal but I found out quickly enough that I was far from it; I was in fact, a freak. What had I been doing all these years, thinking that I could fit into a society that just would not accept my quirks? I was unsociable, I had odd thoughts, I used to sit in trees for long periods of time. I thought at one point I could make myself invisible. I had ideas above my station and to top it all I was two years away from 50 and auditioning for a part as a trapeze artist in a travelling circus. I wanted to travel across Siberia, I thought I was going to enjoy it.

How wrong I was.