I swallowed the self-help pills, following the liturgy
of influencers religiously, forcing myself into the mould I’d been told to fashion if I wanted
‘results’. So, I gorged myself on their promises
of notoriety, financial success, and increased influence. I feasted
on self-congratulation as I clicked the Pay Now button filled with empty promises.
The pit in my stomach yawned
as I filled it with words from a body-less voice on a page of 1’s and 0’s.
But when all was said and done, and my pocket a dry riverbed, the promised land
of milk and honey was nowhere to be seen. Still, I waited,
watching the sun set on another
broke day, counting the bread slices to see how many breakfasts
I had left, the questions swirling around me, an agitated river.
What did I do wrong? They reply that ‘I must have missed something, so
‘trust the process, go back and try again,
follow the steps, march on.’
Yet another sunset
turned into a new day as my stomach twisted
I must have missed something because ‘the program isn’t guaranteed
to produce results unless you follow it as prescribed’.
Round two produced empty bread bags, sold off treasures
and tumbleweed accounts, my stomach
with regret, confusion, shame and