I am a mood acrobat

I am walking on a tight rope. I am hanging by a thread. I am an acrobat- I jump, I tumble, and I fall free through my emotions. I have no safety net because I am daring and impulsive, and that’s what makes my show even more entertaining.
My trapeze number comprises of jumping from one question to the other. I hang to these questions to break my fall. When I can’t grip them properly and my hands get sweaty I know that a trampoline is set for me. Depending on how hard I fall, the trampoline gets me back up with the same intensity, like I am defying gravity. I get above the questions. I am the answer!
After a while I start to feel the pain again: my ankles are damaged, my body is tired, and my muscles are aching. My hands and arms are bruised and painful. I slip again, and my question-mark trapeze is shinier and more slippery than ever before. I am back on the patched trampoline; I must handle the pain and get high into the air again-the show must go on!
My silk rope number is even more difficult, but I’ve practiced so much: my show is flawless.
My silk ropes are not equal. One is longer and hanging lower; the other one is short and rigid. I am trying to make a split, to balance in between the unequal ropes. I have to wrap the long one around my ankles so many times just to manage to get into a diagonal position. With a little bit more effort and some more twists, I reach balance. I am a real mood acrobat.
My hands got stronger, my skin got thicker, and my arms got strong enough to grip both of the ropes. I can climb up and down elation and depression. I can dance in the air. I can hang upside down while spinning.
I survive show after show. I get so many rounds of applause from my inner little fans. I am praised, but work is far from being done. I have to train hard for my next act. Ceasing to train is ceasing to survive.
This is my life: I am a professional mood acrobat.
