I was just clearing my throat

Already the graphic producing process which I developed with the idea of a relentlessly productive content machine has begun to hit snags and coughs and stoppages, and I can sense little contractions along my shoulder hunching muscles, the onset of the full shoulder tensing that accompanies the delivery of a failure. 

I would class this week's picture as a cough. It's a demonstration of my hanging Christmas tree idea, an idea that I've cuddled myself to sleep with many a night, with visions of sales in the millions and a company run from my basement and entire mornings in my bathrobe. 

So I finally drew a picture of the idea: 

The happy dream is ended, my wife showed me several photos posted to odious online forums, showing off several variations of the idea as actually constructed by smug crafty people in their smug little workshops. 

I added some little guys with drone heads to the picture, but found them insipid, so I tried to depict a swarm source for the drones. I enjoy swarm source scenes in movies, but I completely failed the swarm source drawing. My kids kept asking me what it was and I didn't tell them because I was eating my heart and the taste was bitter, bitter!

That's a reference to a poem. The narrator comes across a man-beast eating his heart and he says that. I don't know the poets name. But I did try to quote it to my kid as a joke because my illness is to do that whether the joke is funny or not and whether the other person gets it. My kid liked the joke and the picture including the swarm source or said so at least. 

If I were to color this picture I would make it incredibly dark and gloomy except for the one guy's face who would represent me. His face would be glowing from the lights of the tree, and the viewer would be confused, because the actual tree lights would be dim and feeble, so where is this glow?

It is the glow of ignorance and self deception. It burns warm and cozy no matter what people say. And I would be there to tell the viewer that and I would see the realization in their eyes, of the incredible true depth to the picture, and I would hear the little pop as I blew their mind, and I would take this home to cuddle with.