More, more, more, more, more, more.
Mindless routines when given some thought, startles; as if caught by surprise, as if being programmed to do so. We claw at the running mill and try to get out but we tumble over onto the soft hay. There is nowhere to go! But we are given such sweet water to drink, we are given such a variety and the finest selection of food! Oh what can we ask for, we should stay here in this cage and do our very best (to be cute) because that is what's expected of us!
But a big hello to you, if you have also tumbled onto the soft hay.
And are wondering what to do now.
