Welcome to the Carnival de Vertigo. Please, step. . okay . . stumble on in.
You get a ticket even if you didn't want one. No, you get to come in even if it is the last place on earth you want to go. Fact is, you don't get a choice here. You're coming in here and you can't leave until the great Karma King says you can go back home. Had other plans? Ha. Doesn't matter. Deadlines? Family events? Places to go, people to see? Doesn't matter. Your plans have been pre-empted.
Settle back and enjoy the ride. The first one is the rollercoaster. Not only does it go up and down at this Carnival, but also left and right, forwards and backwards and upside down. All without warning. What you think is solid ground, isn't. Hang onto the walls and railings, folks, or you may just forget which way is up. Don't look up or down. Don't turn your head. In fact, don't tip it. If you do, you trigger a sudden dip, turn or plunge.
The next ride . . . well, it's a quick trip to the nearest bathroom. Yea, the rollercoaster has that affect on people. You may not be sure whether to sit down or bend over so experts advise you sit down and grab a bucket. That way you're covered either way.
You might as well strip too. Yea, this is a nudist Carnival. It's not for fun but because you are sweating like you're in a sauna and you can't get cool, no matter what you do.
Tired? Well, don't close your eyes for goodness' sake. Everything you're feeling just gets worse. Now you don't have a focal point to stare at and use for stabilizing. Keep those eyes open. Don't blink if possible.
You're shaking? Don't worry about it. Comes free with admittance. Your hands shake. If you get the bonus ticket, your eyes will also dart uncontrollably left to right in ways that remind you of the worst drinking night of your life or the drugs you never took but might have wondered about.
Yes, Carnival de Vertigo is an exciting place. You go there without warning. You go to bed at night, fall asleep and then, when you roll over in bed during the night or first thing in the morning, you're THERE. Welcome, come right in. What? You don't want to? I must not have explained this one right. It's not an invitation. It's mandatory attendance.
If your ride is an exceptionally bad one, however, don't despair. There's a bonus round at the end. When you think you can't take another moment, your brain reboots. This means you fall asleep. . . no, you pass out mid-sentence, unable to maintain consciousness another moment. You sleep like you've run a marathon (and let's admit it, folks, it feels like you did!) and when you wake, you're back home. The rides are over and your trip to the Carnival is done. For now. You might return later today. Tomorrow. Next week. In six months. Who knows? Never being able to predict you're going is part of its charm.
Thanks for taking the journey with me. I'm going to go and revisit the bathroom part of the trip now. Who ever said I liked Carnivals anyway?