On Misery – A Review

Snow has a funny way of making everything quiet.

Even the cars running through the slush seem silent as a flake slips between my glasses and eyes and lands on my nose. The steady rhythm of my boots crunching ice into the sidewalk are half of my BPM as I leave the train station and head West.

The snow reminds me to choke my sobs back. To keep quiet. To walk silently in line with the crowd getting off my train.

I’m miserable today.

When I’m depressed there’s a lot that can set me off. But the worst thing is when I realize I’m hurting the people around me.

I never want to be the kind that hurts when they’re hurt. But sometimes, this wounded healer has gotta take a breather and sometimes that can’t happen when he’s knees up shivering under his sheets in the cold of a dark room.

It’s quiet. But I still hear the polka music roll past. I still hear my roommate’s shoes squeak as they come home. I still hear my heart beating, fast.

I’m alone. And I’ve isolated myself with a subtle aggression that comes from levying expectations unknowingly.

I don’t like to ask for much. Because I don’t like how I get when my request is met with an eyeroll, a blank stare, or an argument. I also don’t like to pigeonhole or pry or prophesize. I just like to be. But sometimes I don’t get that luxury.

Other times I let myself get pigeonholed. I fall into traps I set for myself. I embody what I never want to do to someone else.

And that sucks.

More often than not when I’m miserable, I just isolate myself. I sit there and replay half unwound tape deck memories and give my two cents on how I should have done it. What’s that they say about hindsight?

And most famously. When I’m miserable I’ll pretend to be happy. I’ll put on a smile and walk with urgency. I’ll teach the hell out of some kids, I’ll give sage advice I don’t believe. I’ll joke and laugh and play games. And then I’ll go home and I’ll sit down on the floor and stare at a wall until I can’t see straight. Then I’ll stand up and try to go to bed. But often, I’ll just wind up still on the floor.

The next morning I’ll play love songs on the way to work. I’ll scowl until I’m at the front doors, and then I’ll repaint the smile across my face. It looks like mania, but it feels like a maniac.

I find misery to be terrible. I have written plenty of reviews, but this will be my first review.

Misery – 2/10 Stars.

Thanks for reading. Sorry for the somber mood, but sometimes it’s just how things roll.