Misery Is Not a Virtue
by Malisha Dewalt
misery is not a virtue. what's my function? Don't ask people what they're FOR. Social hierarchy is a throat lined with cilia, undulating, organic. it swallows you faster the more that you panic. It perverts words like abstain.
O Missehmensch! No olvides hablar con tu mismo. Es una buena manera para no estar loca. Es una buena idea que cierres la boca.*
Closed, so you can be open.
My problem is a heavy heart on an empty stomach. My problem is the muzzle from my lips to your ears. My problem is that I don't suffer from autism, I suffer from people's shitty attitudes. Wow, it sounds like you've got a problem, what are you going to do about your problem?
The Lord's Work, in the John Irving sense. Eat pills and pills and be a beautiful cunt, alive, alive, shameless.
I remember all the beautiful people I've been. All I have ever wanted was stories. All I have ever wanted is the beautiful body I'm in. I'm the girl who talks to songs, each aneurysm right where it belongs. The intersection of immovable forces, a life of juxtapositions, a girl janitor and creator of divine messes. Tin-voiced elbows, mental hospital hair and selfish love, challenging stares.
I. DRINK. YOUR. PRIVILEGE. I drink it up. Hay män som hatar kvinnor, pero na ga regen komt zonnscijn.**
And I am alive, alive-o.
Malisha Dewalt is a thirtysomething that is exceedingly glad to have lived to become a thirtyanything. Juggling work, activism, relationships, overly clever cats and dependencies on nicotine, caffeine and academia (which should definitely also end in -ine due to its addictive nature and subsequent wear and tear on the soul of the user) has led to a fulfilling and successful life beyond all expectations of various Men in White Coats.