It's easy to get negative because you get beat down. You go

Host: The night was thick with mist, curling around the streetlights like ghostly silk. A dim café glowed on the corner, its windows fogged with warmth against the chill of the rain. Inside, the soft jazz hummed through the air, low and melancholic. Jack sat at the table, his coat still damp, his eyes heavy with a kind of quiet defiance. Across from him, Jeeny held her cup, both hands wrapped around it as if she could draw courage from its heat. The steam rose between them like a veil, a thin curtain of unspoken thoughts.

Jeeny: “You know, Jack… I’ve been thinking about something Joel Osteen once said — ‘Choosing to be positive and having a grateful attitude is a whole cliché, but your attitude is going to determine how you live your life.’ Do you believe that?”

Jack: (a small smirk curling his lips) “A cliché is called a cliché for a reason, Jeeny. It’s something people say when they’ve run out of answers. You can’t just choose to be positive when the world’s busy grinding you into dust.”

Host: A flicker of lightning cut across the window, throwing their faces into sharp contrast — his, angular and hard, hers, soft but resolute.

Jeeny: “But isn’t that the point? When life beats you down — that’s exactly when the choice matters. It’s easy to be hopeful when the sun’s shining. It’s the storm that shows who you really are.”

Jack: “Hope doesn’t fill an empty stomach. Gratitude doesn’t erase failure. When you’ve been rejected three times from jobs you needed just to pay rent — try telling yourself ‘be positive.’ It sounds like a joke.”

Jeeny: (leans forward, eyes intense) “I’m not talking about ignoring pain, Jack. I’m talking about how you face it. Think of Nelson Mandela — twenty-seven years in a cell, and he walked out not bitter, but with grace. If he can find gratitude in that kind of darkness, what excuse do we have?”

Host: The rain grew heavier, a steady drumbeat on the roof, like the pulse of some unseen heart. Jack looked down, his hands clenched, jaw tight.

Jack: “Mandela was exceptional. You can’t compare ordinary people to saints. Most of us… we break. We try to stay positive, but disappointment keeps coming — one blow after another — until all that’s left is cynicism. It’s not a choice,