Positive thoughts are packaged with depressing discouraging chants in a plastic punnet. I don’t know how to cope with that... So to satisfy the thirst of my ever dangling drought of accomplishment, I jam the thoughts in a blender on top speed. Wait for the deafening swirl of the blades to stop, And I lap up the monotonously foul “you are going no where’s” With the chewy chunks of “you got out of bed, welldone’s”, Slump back into a rotting pine chair, And I glide through the emptiness.