JOKER
They called it the House of Clowns, but it felt more like a prison to me. A place where people were forced into roles they never chose, a refuge for outcasts with nowhere else to go. It was made for the amusement of others, but never for the happiness of those trapped inside. Slowly, it was draining me—stripping away not just my joy, but the core of who I once was. If I could remember anything from before this place, maybe Id hold onto it. But all I know now is this—a life of smeared colors, an endless performance for an invisible audience.
They say what doesnt break you makes you stronger. But thats a lie. It doesnt build you up; it wears you down, piece by piece until all thats left is the mask you wear.
