Whirring Cylinders

There I lie, in the middle of the thing. Smack dab in the center of the merry-go-round. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! My arms an legs pulled away from my body as I go spinning. Its impossible to see whats beyond but the same whir that was, has been and will be. My belly feels a slight, rhythmic dip. I am one with the earth. With this metal monster. Round and round and round I go. The seconds pass. I am comforted. The more I ride the more I feel okay. The more I melt into the rhythm. The more I no longer see exiting as an option. But its there. Its always there. For the ride will slow down eventually- if no one gives it another push.