I’m too tired to cry. Too dizzy to move. And every little bit of my energy is being left behind on this cruise. I give myself up on dishes and dishes and they pick and they pick, and they order more and I give it to them. I give up on presentation and just slap myself onto plates and into bowls and hand them over. Take me, take me, TAKE ME. And they take their little itty bitty forks and they poke and **** and chew the tiniest pieces before handing the plate back and ordering more. Those gluttonous pigs with their pinkies up and their napkins folded into their shirts. Pretty soon they will have to settle for what’s on their plates. Or starve. There’s only so much you can fit on a porcelain dish, and only so much of me left.