She tumbled through her 20s, stammered through her 30s and sits comfortably in her 40s. With each fall, she endured numerous cuts, scars and bruises.

You would hardly recognize her. To the point where she became something.

She became a circle (but really her name nor her form matters).

Her name matters as much as where she got those bruises from.

Finding out who did it is not the solution, in fact it’s hardly the problem.

The truth is long gone before the court is even in session. It is dissolved into deep cravings for drama and mystery.

But remember to kiss their feet for their insincerity, their ingenuity, their ignorance.

Only by cutting, scarring and bruising, can we mold beautifully disfigured shapes.