Swirling in a bowl. [plz don't tap the glass] There's no where to go to hide yourself from all that's around year. No way to react to anything you see. Just float, breathe, watch as everything flies by and tips a bit of food into your bowl.
This is my life in a fishbowl. I've got no arms or legs, just flippers and gills. I can't control what occurs in my life. Dragged downstream by the current towards an unknown, vast destiny that may or may not be enticing. Either way, it looks like I'm going to have to keep heading towards it. No way back, now.
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