Someone once asked me how I am. I told them “Oh, I’m throughly miserable.”
They looked sad for me, and said “Oh, I’m sorrry.”
I looked back at them, “Miserable is fine. I’m worried when I’m happy, I don’t know what to do with it and the tricks it plays. At least I know what’s happening with miserable.”
If I lost the misery, I don’t know what I’d do. It’s the base that my happiness sits on, like Lilith squatting over the next father of her monster spawn, riding him though that brief moment of transient ecstasy. It’s a triumphant pyramid of glass upon the barren Sahara the peasants are pelting with stones. It’s a bone sticking out of a freshly broken leg, white and free, painful and a reminder of the wonder and terribleness of life.
@EnochianEntropy Your own words, or a quotation?
Powerful stuff.
@EnochianEntropy You expressed it quite beautifully.
@EnochianEntropy Misery or melancholy isn't all truly awful. Perhaps it helps us to better appreciate the happinesses we experience.
@stueytheround 😀I could do with a little less, though.
But hey, whatcha gonna do?
@stueytheround Only if I’m burning Rome to the ground.
@EnochianEntropy There are lots of "Romes" that still need burning.
@stueytheround Yeah, well, as much as I want to burn it all down, I want something there to replace it. The Matt Gaetz of the world can Joker it up, but I want solutions.
@EnochianEntropy Not all Romes are big political issues, thankfully.
The fire of our passions can raze strongholds to the ground on a personal or local level, too.