The Power of Words by Antonio Wingfield

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Beauty... Like the sun,

it looms somewhere above, below, around and beyond

whether one can see it or not.

 

A Woman's Place

The Funhouse

The yellow haze of bold letters are  ignited upon the wide manmade construct greeting you as you make your way to the entrance, eager to be entertained.   Welcome to The Funhouse where everything is catered to your perceptions. It knows you. It was created with a formula with intent to disturb you but chose it’s name to appease you.  It knows your biases, your isms, your fears and your references to good and evil.  Like the word beautiful, there is such an irony in it’s name as the bright yellow lights beam happily in the midst of sadistic laughing clowns, howling demons, disfigured faces and cackling witches. One by one, they confirm your perceptions adding to your infinite collection of deception.

You will run from all of your references in search of that image of consolation until finally, like a grand finale,  a mirrored maze awaits and you are the muse. It’s a clear desolate room surrounded by morphing glass perfectly crafted to distort your reflection. But this isn’t any ordinary mirrored maze. It is not the kind that you will leave behind in only a brief depiction of your reflection. It’s a special kind of maze of long lasting impressions. Unbeknownst, there is one that will transcend permanent alterations, the distortion of your self perceptions, and the distortion of your mind and eyes. But whether or not you can distinguish your reflection from the vast collection will most likely depend on whether or not you know the truth of who you are...behind the prescriptions...behind the mask...behind the illusions.

What if all that you’d known of yourself had been a distortion all along and alas, the mirrored maze at The Funhouse has revealed the truth of you…whether externally,  internally or both blurred in the multiplied images across countless mirrors morphing,  melting, and bending. "Ha!" You laugh in the assumption that what lies before you is indeed the deception. "Ha!" You laugh again at all your preconceived notions.  One image after another entertains you as you rejoice that it is not of your existence. And then suddenly... in the midst of your perceptions and in efforts to bring you into consciousness, a bruiting hand reaches out to you and slaps you silly. But you’ll continue to grow giggly in an attempt to detach yourself from the truth.  Perhaps you’ve found that you  actually prefer your distortion in a superficial notion of your punch drunk delusion.  Perhaps you see a reflection that you subconsciously wish were your own. Perhaps you’ve found that you are afraid of yourself as it is in truth... choosing to pay attention to only that which you choose to see…that which you need to believe. And then finally....Boo! From within you quiver.  Your knees buckle and you begin to shiver. There it is....and it won’t allow you to leave without it though you’ll attempt to deny it. There it is fumbling and bumbling alongside you long after you’ve left The Funhouse in tears, screeching, whaling, and screaming…running away from the scariest monster of all….yourself and the perception of your own reflection.