If misery loves company, than why do I love misery? Am I happy to be miserable? Well, obviously not. I'm miserable to be miserable. I suppose, I am misery's company, and misery loves me terribly and misses me when I'm gone.
I find myself being happy and cheerful, then, it all turns into a bitter-sweet turn. It makes me fall into a deep cut depression by the smallest things.You can say I'm over sensitive, too emotional, but you know that old saying, 'things happen for a reason?' Maybe, I love misery's company because I'm supposed to be miserable. Maybe I'm God's little toy, his jester. He laughs and sits on his golden throne while watching get pushed around and stepped on.
Now, you may say this is self-pity....hell, I'll admit, this is self-pity. I'm just venting, I suppose. But, if I'm married to misery and it happened for a reason, I want to know why it happened for a reason? It can't be a very good one. It must be an awful explanation. It might just be, like the OTHER old saying, 'Somethings are better left unsaid.' It probablly is better left unsaid. If I find out I am God's little joke book, I would let misery consume my entire soul and beyond.
More and more people won't admit that they're demons. They ignore the fact that they have no soul and they fill their heads with the lie thast they're a good person who has done nothing wrong. I'm sick of people like that. And, maybe, the people who are taken as the demons, are really the perfect little angels. No one will ever know, because, right now, this vulgar world is full of people who think their better than other people because they have a fancier sports car. I mean the "demons," of course.
I'm going off of topic, though, not exactly. The demons I was speaking of do deprive people of their small samples of joy. It's quite greedy and sad, but, again, beggers can't be choosers.
To end my self-pity and depressing image of this world and misery, I want to say that misery and I are very happy together, like a match made in heaven. We, together, are a key to this terrible thing called, 'life.' Don't believe me? Talk to misery. He's always your friend.
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