Slow Swimming Between the Ice Cubes

Feet up where fat toes recline defying gravity, it's not 'happy hour' nor sad time, it's just time. The world has been over-thinking again, forgetting its fictional place in the self-replicating mind-maze. There is no escape, I'm just relaxing between the tracks. This laced numbness will quickly pass, yet ice cubes do break through all the dream chasing for a while. I'm not checked out, not checked in, just drinking.