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Read this book, they said. It'll change your life, they said. No, I said. I don't want to change my life, I said. You're too cynical, they said. You need more optimism in your life, they said. Fuck you, I said. I wouldn't read this if you paid me to, I said.

And I sure as hell don't pay money for this tripe. I mean, come on, do we really need a book to tell us, "hey, guess what? If you do good stuff, good stuff will happen to you?" This woman is making millions off of selling things like this! And people are lapping it all up. There's a movie about this? And it spawned sequels? Three sequels? That people fucking bought? What? Wow! Really, humanity? You disappoint me more and more every day.

I hate the whole self-help gimmick that people have on going these days. There's the monk who sells his Ferrari. There's the shepherd who travels all the way across the word to realise his destiny was to be a fucking shepherd in the first place. I wanted to rip both those books off from end to end. And then there's this. Thanks, but no thanks. If I had my way, I would burn every single copy of this book in the world. Call me an asshole, call me a bitch, call me whatever the fuck you want, but some books make my blood boil, and this is one of them.

Self -help literature, it seems. *rolls eyes and drops mic*