the emotions churn and swirl.
continuing around same never-changing circle,
feet treading the same well worn path.
I can't break free.
I'm a two dimensional object,
dimly aware of the three dimensional world, but without depth.
The addition of alcohol to all of this does not make matter better,
but I find solace in my new ceramic geisha girl,
which was the vessel in which my chi chi was delivered.
I desire to be nice, but sarcasm slips from my lips instead.