Why does the thought of living a tortured life and dying a sudden death put a smile on my face?

Why do I sense a sort of pride in myself about the fact that I am wretched?

Why am I so tempted to return to the darkness that once inundated all of me?

2 thoughts on “Wretched Life

  1. Good questions. I wish I had answers, but I don’t. I know that I often feel the same way. Maybe it’s because it’s relatively easier to stick to misery when we have to strive for joy? I mean, who really wants to work at being joyful? (I usually fall into the trap of thinking that I shouldn’t have to work at being happy. It should “come naturally” or something.) So I wallow in my mud-puddle-misery like a pig without a tail…

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