*Please note, this post may be recorded for training and quality assurance purposes. Likely not though.
Good day, dear pancakes and waffles, may you all frolic endlessly in the golden syrup fields. Remaining forever drenched but never soggy, your best, complex carbohydrate lives.
Alright let’s progress to something even less sensible. When sitting down that day I wanted to create something deeply uplifting and inspiring in a meaningful way. Now, reverse all of that and a more accurate description of the poem to follow emerges. So then that’s… shallowly downlifting and uninspiring in a meaningless way. Mission Accomplished!
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“Fraille”, November 4, 2020.
Trapped deep within an impenetrable wood
Effectively blind and affectively sightless
The forest for the trees but the trees for the forest
Each eliminating the other like well-behaved equations
The resultant void so paradoxically busy
Sibilant voices and dark cloaked figures
A rotted haunt, the sustenance of the unmade
Insufficient for survival but more than enough to starve.
————————————————————————————————————————————————-That’s actually slightly less depressing than the original draft. So, one of my favourite mantras once more rings true, it could always be worse! Admittedly, such a notion was first conceptualized for me by a cartoon fox, and mid-song at that, but a good philosophy should never be judged by its medium. Unless it’s a fortune telling medium in which case the cartoon fox is suddenly upgraded to Cassandra. Is it fair to use a fictional seeress to make fun of very real b.s. prognosticators? Yeah probably, but they’ll never see it coming.
-Alex Blaikie
Dread Poets Sobriety 
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