The Outskirts Of MIserY Town.

This MiserY. Palpable. Almost tangible. Perched at the very edge of 20, liable to fall into 21 anytime now, she’s the girl she prayed and hoped and prayed and hoped she’d  be when she was thirteen.

She’s always thought herself a goth if anything I mean blood tastes good to her, she’s at home in black, pain gives her all sorts of rushes, her soul leans towards thrashy blackness, she doesn’t scare easily and last but not least, she’s got a high threshold for the scarily unexplainable. Things that go bump in the night intrigue her..

But her taste in music? She just can’t leave Paramore alone. My Chemical Romance makes her sway. Papa Roach, disgusts her (thank goodness) but she’ll be the first to die for Ingrid Michealson.

Is she a closet romantic? Closet Emo?

This post is supposed to be about her misery, because Godhelpher it’s all she can write about. Too bad Cupid and his cronies have nearly everything to do with the various shades of black that her soul is turning (she thought she was above all that. Haha!)

” Twas a love doomed by all the forces that were; ochestrated more by Loki the trickster than anybody else”

“A love doomed to such failure as to reduce Aphrodite, Cupid and the rest of the team to hot tears of shame for a job so badly done”

…are the sorts of things that she’s been reduced to penning.

Will she, at 50 when she’s comfortable with her wrinkles and saggy skin, when every thing that can possibly happen has happened, when the world holds no more surprises for her; will she envy this 21 year old her misery? Will she wish to feel as deeply as her younger self? Will she still be able to pen blog-posts in taxis? Will she be brave enough to break her own heart (via some blackguard)?

Will she still rock her piercings (14) and her tattoos (none yet) proudly?

Will she still yearn for the sorts of activities that promise regret?

Every minute he doesn’t call is drunk, saturated with despair. She could explode and inebriate the world with bitter misery, like an evil parody of the Ribena berry.

She doesn’t want to disappear down the chute that leads to the dark hole in which his EXES are archived.

Her tears refuse to flow until she’s around him-then they gush like badly behaved shower nozzles, happily wounding and guilting and gouging rifts and gulleys in his conscience.

How honest is a 21 year old’s promise that she’s married to her career when the minute she’s given an assignment procrastination, ennui and laziness start to rape her left right and centre?

She’d like very much to curl up into a ball and die. She’d like to explode in flambouyant colors. She wants to be a bigger version of the ribena berry. She wants to be Marilyn Manson going clean- COLD TURKEY.

She wants to thrash. No partY. No, Wail. No dammit! She wants to laugh and laugh and laugh…

She wants to feature in a Douglas Adams book.

She has a crush on Princess.

She wants this Misery, this Goliath-size dejection to be Frozen in time forever.

She swears that her next post will be more cheerful.

She sighs.


About Miz. Kyrte

I read, I write, I love. My favorite quote is: We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing. Bukowski, baby! Extremes ;-)

13 responses to “The Outskirts Of MIserY Town.

  1. She has a crush on Princess.

    Hehehehe. 😀
    Meanwhile, when I was your age, I was not pondering the future and the Meaning of Life ™. Just wasted time, ‘cause I had lots of it. Kids these days! 😀

  2. Hehehe. Trust you to pick that oNE sentence out. But “she” does. The Girl is amazing.(that’s beside the point!!)
    I Hear “Kids these days.’ Bowa. You make “her” sound 14!!! Plus she has only so much time before she has to start taking Oprah’s pencil-boob test. sigh.

  3. You have a crush on Princess? Could this be a physical/sexual crush or an intellectual/emotional-this-is-my-kind-of-girl crush? 14 piercings? Day-umm! You rock! I was 21 last year, and I agree with comrade, the hows and wherefores of the future were the least of my busy mind’s concerns. You are very deep. I’m stalking you henceforth.

    • Sigh. I think both. Then again i fall in love with minds (and the girl has a beautiful one). Cupid and his malicious butt-pokes and grossly mal-fired arrows got me thinking DEEP, but i’m not usually thIS deep (okay now i’m rambling, but only because I’ve stomped all over your blog and fallen for you a little. sigh-y sigh.)

  4. Baz

    She’ll be alright. She could use some Tupac, though.

  5. baz

    She could probably use some Tupac, too.

  6. Baz

    Let’s get you some Tupac. I owe you Pac because you taught me Paramore.

  7. I came, I saw this post, I was very flattered, I did not know what to say. Except can I see those 14 piercings? Damn!

    And I hope Baz’s music is making you happy.

  8. I was wondering where you were 😀 and the piercings? There’s proof on facebook somewhere. Seriously though. Me i’m coming out and saying it(again). I’m in love with that mind of yours (Keep in mind that I’z a promiscuous one. You share your (my) heart space with a few other orgasm-y-mind peeps:)

    Baz’s music is..well… it’s Tupac. and i’m an Alterbridge-y sort of person so…ahem.

  9. The Smiths are wonderful to wallow in misery to.
    Yes, Princess’s mind is quite crushworthy 🙂

  10. Who the fuck r u people?


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