Misery does not love company.
Misery loves isolation & dark corners & cobwebs where laughter should be.
Misery is the bottom of the pit of sadness that calls out to you at 2:41 am and taunts you about a lifetime of abandoned dreams and unrealized potential.
Misery knots your stomach & back & neck and pounds through your veins, tormenting you from the inside.
Misery is every nasty thought and word you've ever said or thought or written about yourself blasting through a loudspeaker and emblazoned on a drive-in movie screen with everyone you know and love watching and listening.
Misery is a two-day migraine.