Laughter is the cause of suffering

Laughter is the cause of suffering

The laughing causes hurt.

Why does the laugh cause hurt may you ask? How could an act of happiness and joy instill pain in the hearts of others?

I will tell you my friend. I will tell you.

To laugh means that somthing has been found funny. Oftentimes the creation of the hmor is at someone elses expense.

Now the true measure of a person is the ability to laugh at themselves and their faults and blunders; to enjoy the fruits of their downfall.

However, this is not always the case.

All too often the expense of others for our laugh is a detraction from their self confidence, rather than bolstering the feeling of community and brotherhhood.

It is for this reason, for example that so many of those who snap and kill hurt maim and destroy are those that others would least expect it from.

Those that others laugh, not at perse (they may quite actually be laughing with) but inside the troubled one a piece breaks off, and shatters, leaving a jingle in the minds footsteps and serves as a constant reminder of the anguish, however small.

The broken shards never fully repain, much like a crumpled photograph. The damage is always present.

And even as they look back upon fond memories of laughter and happiness, the crinkles and edgelines of folds still mark present, painting a slightly distorted version or reality.

One maimed memory is not enough to condemn a soul.

Over time though, as more and more memories are crumpled and marred by the presence of others jeers and infestations the almbum begins to grow; hundreds and thousands of distorted pictures blurr themind and bring a teasr to the eye, which only stands t magnify the creases and pain of the memory.

What would be clearly irrational to us is quite the opposite for them. Their reality has been distorted. Their lives have been warped and their minds decayed.

Mold and parasites begin to live under the creases, and futher deterriorate the photograph, and no longer is the moment fond, the memory light hearted. The skeletal remains of wht was is replaced by the ravings of what lied underneath, and the overanalysis of the past grows like a seed in the mindof the aflicted, growing and finding sustanence in the underlying workings of other memories, becomeing heavier and heavier upon the minds basis until, finally, the basis snaps and is replaced by the vine of paranoia. The mind lies strangled at the base, supporting that which it hated.

Freaked out kitty

Heh.

So i was making toast, and boo was sitting in the sink, just chilling, like a cat.

Y'know, 'cause he is a cat, and stuff....anyways moving on

Toast pops. *pfoom*

Boo freaks the FUCK out. He jumps out of the sink, whirls around and hisses at the toast.

He leers at it for a bit, daring the evil toastlings to make a move.

I'm watching this from the couch, and am now laughing.

I walk over, hug boo and tell him its ok i'll punish the evil toast by coating them with butter to make them suffer.

I did so, and proceeded to devour the infidels and their acidic buttery coating.

Boo thanked me by rubbing his face on my leg and purring.

thought i'd share.

Peer Depravity

Late one night I deamt of a boy
Whose path lay at a fork in the road
His choice as to which one to take
Was clouded by judgement of those
whom he looked up too he wanted to try
to be just like them, to be completely fake

The first path lay in sunight and flowers
but was nothing the beauty died during winter
The second path was dismal and dark
but in the end lead to something much better
Which road was taken which choice empowered
The road of the peers to fulfill his heart

Its much colder now and the trees silently whistle
On one road desolate and a sad cry can be heard
Nothing is left of what choice was made by the boy
Indeed, nothing plays at all, reality has blurred
Watercolors run together painting a picture dark and still
of a grave alone, unmarked and missed by nobody

A poem I wrote the moment I realised I loved her

lost in the mind's illusions of what could be
blinded to the subtle happiness of true reality
Seemingly lost forever and no turning back
three words echo in the distance bring me back
I love you

Pulled back into the world which you live
Realizing that life is as good as it gets
The path to the dark side will forever sit
But easily ignored because i've heard what you said.
I love you.

Random musical selections are truly nothing but
Setting a soundtrack of what i need to hear
Anger and frustration clears to songs of love
Once again you speak and i forget to steer
I love you

Blade of Love

Suddenly it seems you won't be here
how could this happen? I don't even know
What we used to have has dissappeared
replacing the warmth with frigid snow

My heart beats steadily out of my chest
Trying to escape the pain we both feel
Try as i might my soul cannot rest
The wounds too large to easily heal

I cannot understand where i went wrong
What things i said to have you be this way
I drown my sorrows in depressing songs
In an effort to suppress what my mind tries to say

My mind wins: take a razor and I start to cut
let the wound open and begin to bleed
so the pain will fade like final dusk
and my life into a sleepless dream

Too Much of a Bad Thing

First perspective

My pulse quickened. Jerking my eyes open, I glanced cautiously at my surroundings. I was in my bedroom, in my bed, between the sheets. A small breath escaped my slightly parted lips, curling in wispy threads of light that meandered about the limits of my vision.

They were watching me.

My heart pounded with great force, sending waves of pain through my chest as I tried to catch my breath. Small beads of incandescent sweat gently slid down my face, illuminating the surrounding darkness. I couldn't see anybody. I couldn't be alone! I could feel Them...

They were still watching me.

"Stop!" I thrashed violently, pulling the covers over his head, "Stop watching me!"

They hadn't stopped watching him yet.

I sighed, calming myself with deep breaths and relaxing into the security of my pillow and mattress and sinking into the folds of time. I was safe. "Nothing can ever get to me if I'm under the covers," I thought. That thought gave me comfort. I relaxed once more in silence.

They were still watching me.

I lifted myself from the bed, moving over to my dresser, to gather my clothes and get dressed. I couldn't sleep with whatever it was still watching me. When I got dressed and changed, I fled from the presence, taking refuge in the bunker under my desk, within my bedroom and in the security of my house. If They wanted me, then They would have to just walk right in and…

The knock came like thunder to my ears, traveling through space and time and consciousness. The Thunder pierced my soul; loud as pain and twice as fearsome. They were here. Dear mother of all that is good and normal they were here. I leaped out from behind my desk, and took three long strides. One took me to the bed, one took me on the bed, and the last carried me to the other side of it. I dove to the floor and cautiously lifted my head. I peered at the door. The knock came again and the door seemed to bulge and splinter. The air quaked with the pressure.

"Andrew!" cried a voice. The voice sparkled like crystal rain; much too clear and too haunting. Was it human?

I tried to shout. "What do you want with me?" My words drifted slowly through the air, then fell helplessly to the hardwood floor, languishing in innumerable shards. Had they reached the door? I couldn't tell.
This time, all I heard was static. I adjusted my ear receiver until I heard the voice again. " ...to you. I'm coming in." The voice faded out once more as the frequency changed. I ducked behind the bed and peered in fright at the bulging, twisting door. The sound of the turning doorknob grated against my ears and then, the door exploded open. Cecilia seemed to roll into the room. "What are you doing?" she asked. The voice was that crystal, haunting voice again.

Was it really Cecilia? The face looked like hers, but the body undulated in an altogether unnatural way. Inhuman colors danced about her skin and her clothes radiated light and noise. Yes, I know your secret. They'd came for me. They came, disguised as my sister, but I knew the truth. I knew their crafty little secret. I glared at the Cecilia/Creature from behind the security of my bed.

"I'm thinking about killing you." said the Cecilia/Creature. It kept speaking, but it's frequency shifted continuously. Calmly, it meandered to my desk and began rifling through my papers.

I struggled to understand what it was saying but the words faded in and out. "I'm going ... you're coming with me," it said. The floor and dirt seemed to dance about, mocking me, holding me back.

"No!" I shouted. It wanted to take me, then and there. It turned to me and took a step. Not this time. I wouldn't go out like that. Not after all that it did to me! Not after the pain! I tried to hide from it. The beast uttered a horrible, unintelligible sound. "Leave me alone!" I pleaded. I barely got the words out. Shaking, I curled into myself. I curled into space; into time. I curled out of existence.

The creature stared in my direction. Its eyes were ablaze with a dark fire. It suddenly crouched to the floor. Was it going to pounce? NO, it wasn't going to pounce. It had something in it's hand… some sort of hammer. It slowly stood up again and reached for me. A tentacle of an arm came at me and the voice shouted cold music. The arm floated and expanded and distorted towards me. My gosh, it was going to kill me! How could He/She/It see me?

"Just go away!" I shouted. My face was cold with sweat. I curled up even more to get away from the fiendish creature. The room got quiet. When I looked up, it was gone. The creature's unholy presence had left the floor dancing and the door bulging.

Second perspective

I knocked twice on the bedroom door. I looked down at my watch then knocked again. "Andrew!"

"What do you want. " The words were muffled and trailed off like Andrew had meant to say more.

"I just want to talk to you. I'm coming in, okay?" Slowly, I turned the doorknob and stepped into the room. It was warped beyond imagination. The room was so disorganized it could only have been brought upon by severe and ongoing hallucinations. Piles of clothes and refuse and books and food and CDs were lying about the room. It was impossible to tell which pile was which. The floor was only visible in a few patches and even in those places it was stained or littered with cat hair. She looked about the room, shuddered with disgust, and then spotted Andrew peering at her from behind the bed. "What are you doing?"

Andrew stared blankly at me. His shaggy, ruffled hair was standing up on one corner of his head. It must have been days since he had seen a comb, much less a mirror.

"You know, if Mom saw your room like this, she'd kill you. Hell, even I'm thinking about killing you for letting it get this bad." I walked over to his desk and started idly flipping through his various magazines and notebooks.

Andrew continued to glare at me.

"Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to the store and I need to know if you're coming with me."

"NOOOO!" he shouted.
"Are you okay?" I asked. I took a step towards him. His eyes dilated and he seemed to shrink from me.

"Leave me alone," he whispered. His voice seemed small and frightened. She tilted her head and looked at him. A thousand reasons why her brother was acting odd ran through my mind. Was it because… no, it couldn't be that.

As I gazed around his room, something on the floor caught my eye. I knelt down amidst the clutter and picked up a single, unadorned mug. I held the empty mug, showing it to him. "Did you drink all of the hot chocolate?" I asked.

"Just go away!" he moaned. He was curled up on the floor, trying to hide from me. Quivering, he started mumbling incoherently. I shook my head in quiet amusement and left the room. Perhaps I shouldn't have added the entire Ex-Lax candy bar to his hot chocolate.

~ This is based on a true story about a time that my sister gave me 40 times the recommended dosage of Ex-Lax; I defecated so much and was so dehydrated I hallucinated for 5 days straight.