He was the one who told jokes.

Posted: September 2, 2009 in Uncategorized

He laughed to not feel what he’d have to feel if the laughter wasn’t there to numb it.
It’s why he told jokes.
He was the one who told jokes.

Life can be a quirky little joke if you looked at it the right way, really.
People. The things they do. He found it all hilarious sometimes.
And even if it wasn’t really funny at all, he made it sound funny.
And everyone laughed with him.
That felt good, when everyone laughed. He liked to soak up the laughter from their scrunched up faces. It gave him a little high.
A little high.
A fix.
Yes. The jokes always took him on a little trip. Humour is a pretty little escape from the grotesque crudeness of reality don’t you think?

Some days, though, some days, try as he may, a joke was nearly impossible to concoct.
Those days when the sky was just too sooty or the faces just too tired, that a joke hilarious on any other given day would be utterly rude on this one. And not in a funny way either.
So he shrugged and tried to find something to distract him.
Fidgety. Not happy, no, not happy at all.
He was the one who told jokes, after all.

But not to worry, it was only for a day or two, this dry spell.
And he would be back to telling jokes in no time.
And when the laughter came flooding back, it was like relief rushing through a needle.
They smiled and went back to work, his audience. They thought, what a funny amusing little boy. Such a quick mind. I wonder what he does in the time that he is not telling jokes.
But there was no such time. He was just the one who told jokes.
What was he or who was he when he wasn’t, he did not know.

Reality is ugly and lurid when it is naked, no? And irrelevant humour, a flattering gown thrown over its crassness. He was the thrower. Truth be told, his mind was a monstrous little minefield, because it was so aware of this facade.
A living minefield, however (if such a thing exists at all), is less likely to explode when enchanted by the intoxicating perfume of laughter.

What a peculiar and ridiculous thought, they’d say, if he should ever have told them this. And they would laugh, thinking it was just another one of his jokes. Waiting for the punchline.
And he’d laugh too.

Who knew a story about a comedian, he’d say, could be so tragic?
Ha ha.

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Comments
  1. saintfallen says:

    I heard a joke once. Man goes to doctor, says he's depressed. Life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Doctor says "Treatment is simple. The great clown, Pagliacci, is in town. Go see him. That should pick you up". Man bursts into tears. "But doctor", he says, "I am Pagliacci." Good joke. Everybody laughs. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.

  2. Broken Metal Madman says:

    Awesome read Shif

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