The wheel of mice death.

Here is today's installment of light therapy art:

"So, what do we have here?"
"It's a wheel full of impaled mice."
"Mmm-hmm. I notice also that one of them is a baby, that's particularly gruesome."
"Yes, I guess I'm not feeling so great."
"One of those mice is about to be run over and the other is watching helplessly."
"Yeah."
"What sort of a wheel is this anyway? It's bad enough that the mice are impaled but it has extra spikes to hurt whatever gets in it's path? This is a very unpleasant contraption indeed."
"The point of drawing while doing the light therapy is not to censure myself, you know, to just let the subconscious purge itself."
"And this is what you come up with? An impaled mice wheel?"
"What sort of therapist are you anyway? Not a very encouraging one."
"I'm not a therapist. You are having a written conversation with yourself."
"Right. Well. I guess I can't really complain then."
"Try drawing something less childishly tragic tomorrow why don't you."
"You're not the boss of me."
"I am you."
"Well you are the part of me that's sucking right now so I'm going to stop typing out what you say. So there."

And that, ladies and gentlemans, is how you win an argument with yourself. For more tips on being very sane...look elsewhere.