I was trying to validate my ego the same as usual. The same as I always do. Putting in the work. ‘Yup’, I tell it in an upbeat fashion, ‘you’re fine, you’re great, you’re fine. There are no flies on you, that’s for sure. You’re great you’re fine you’re great you’re fine. Nothing wrong with you…’ I wink at my ego cheerily, but it just stares back at me blearily. No matter what happens it always just stares back at me blearily. It fixes me with a baleful eye. It’s in bad shape you see – I don’t know what’s happened to it. ‘Would you like a nice crunchy Italian amaretto biscotti?’ I ask it hopefully, but my ego just stares blearily back at me. No matter what happens it always just stares blearily back at me. It’s been staring blearily back at me for thousands of years now. That’s what I call ‘non-inspirational’. It doesn’t do a lot for my morale, I can tell you! It doesn’t do a lot for my morale at all. ‘What’s wrong with the bastard?’ I ask myself. I’d like to be listening to some good sounds and chilling out, maybe smoking some of the old Bob Hope, a bit of the old Mary Jane, having a mellow experience, but instead I’m stuck here in this hole of a place with this lousy joy killer. Hey folks, meet my ego, it’s been a sour mood for the last six thousand ears at least. It’ll kill the vibe stone dead in a second, it’ll kill any vibe stone dead in a second. My old ego is in a bit of a sulk you see, it’s taken offense at something or other. Maybe at someone something said. A long, long time ago. ‘How are you feeling mate’, I ask it, ‘are you feeling any better today?’ Keeping the mood light you see. Keeping the mood light. How are you feeling mate, how are you feeling mate, how are you feeling mate. It’s important to keep the mood light as you know – despite the awful sinking feeling I get every time I look at that bastard ego of mine. Sitting in the corner sulking. Giving off the worst vibes you could ever imagine. You couldn’t imagine them actually. They’re not normal. They’re radiating out on the psychic spectrum, on the bad part of the psychic spectrum – the part no one wants to talk about. There is a deathly chill in the air but it’s not a physical chill, if you know what I mean. You are doing great, I tell it. You are really flying it. You’re playing a blinder. You’re onto a winner there for sure. The future’s looking good old pal. The future’s looking good for sure.