My Theme

Editing for authors: because every writer needs a good editor.


Apr 6, 2014
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Nakhon Pathom, Thailand; or somewhere in the world
I’ve got it. It was right there in front of me the whole time I was looking for it. My theme.

Misery. Miserable. Is what it’s all about. What else could it be about? Happiness? Lol. Happiness is nothing. Happiness is simply the absence of misery. Happiness is normal. Babies are born that way, and want to stay that way. It's adults, parents, teachers, "authorities" who screw them all up. Happiness is the natural order of things. I don’t need to try and pursue happiness, or “make myself happy” or “make my mind up to be happy” or any other crap like that. I am happy. I always have been.

It’s misery that’s artificial. It’s misery, not happiness, that others want to put on you and me. Misery was put on me. And I perpetuated it. It takes two to tangle. You gave it to me, and I, in an attempt to practice the stark naked honesty you tried to ram down my throat and that everyone appears to value so much but really doesn’t, tried to understand this nonsense and perpetuated it. I opened myself up to it. My fault. Won’t happen again.

The moment I realized and embraced all my misery, every single bit of it, even the ugliest, nastiest moments in my life of it, all the bad dreams, all the actual bad things, everything, I realized in that moment that that is what I was looking for.

I could never embrace it in the past. “Society” (whatever that’s supposed to mean), my upbringing, gave me all my misery to start with, then told me I wasn’t allowed to have it, that I wasn’t supposed to wallow in it, that it didn’t exist, that I was “imagining things”, that I was “being a baby”, that I was... well, you know what I mean.

Well, it’s time to give it all back. It is often said that we ought to do something to help others, to give back to “society” that which it has given to us. I couldn’t agree more. And I aim to do just that.

A lot of it has to do with religion, with that abomination they like to call, “Original Sin”. I think I’ll start there, with that incredible stupidity they tried to pull over on me. It didn’t take. It didn’t work. I know what you’re up to, and it’s not happenin’ here.

Let me get this straight... you’re telling me that I am born evil, that there’s nothing I can do about it, and that I have to accept it unconditionally, and that I have to try and be good in spite of it-even though it’s impossible for me to do in the first place, and if I don’t understand it that that is proof of my human incompetence, ungodliness, imperfection and my evil and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Got it. Say no more. You’re telling me that you think life is nothing more than miserable nonsense and that one does not even have the luxury of committing suicide to get himself out of it for fear of going to “hell”-and that I am supposed to deny all of this at the same time I am supposed to accept it, perpetuate it, and teach others all about it.

Sounds like you’re already in “hell”.

Now, I know where the phrase, “misery loves company” comes from.

It’s nonsensical gibberish like this that is responsible for, and will be held accountable for, helping to make my life miserable.

Lucky me, I’m a warrior. Born that way. Made that way. Made myself that way. I know how to be miserable. Misery is just a small part of what I do. That’s all it is.

Now, on with the writing.

Miserable. Misery. I love it. I will wake with it. I will eat it for breakfast. I will devour it, just as it has tried to devour me, but failed... miserably.

Give it to me. Bring me more. I will write it. I will tell the whole world exactly what I think of it. I will spread my misery everywhere, and everywhere the world will love it.

Now, “misery loves company”. I need a writing partner/buddy/friend or two or three or four who knows more about writing than I do. Actually, I don’t really need that, but I want it. I think it would make the process much easier and much better to work through.

I’m going to set the miserables free. I have a lot of work to do.

Anyone interested in being miserable with me?

A large christmas tree with lights outdoors in the snow, with a snowman, houses, and children