My life is full of misunderstood giggles. Dark chortling guffaws I intentionally share. I bottle feed veal, whisper sweet everythings to birds nibbling me apart. I sleep, not run, marathons. I climb trees when I'm upset. I enjoy chaos. Noise soothes me. I wake up with words in my head. I play at life.
Last winter, amidst a cold December night, when most were asleep at four-something-rediculous-in-the-morning I was freezing my bits off, propelling myself down a frozen solid playground slide, shooting into the air and landing painfully into the wet snow beneath it. Again and again and again! Filling the otherwise silent night with glee filled squeals of spontaneous joy.
Two weeks ago, hours after my fathers funeral.. an event that surely shook the ground I stood on.. and then threw upon his casket, I revelled in love and laughter, finding myself with a hot cup of coffee, and friends from all over, and managing to somehow aqcuire six furry creatures to run about and play with for the evening.
No matter where I go, travel or live, Laughter is my home, my comfort, my lifestyle, my ever constant choice. Any moment where I am able to share it, makes me feel indestructable. To just see you smile at me, with me, or even in spite of me, is inexplicably gratifying. My purpose is silliness.
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