Hilarity.

"A day without laughter is like a day without sunshine."

I thought this quote was interesting; it's pretty much the story of my life. Ask anyone, I laugh at everything. (The longest time I've lasted in a straight-face contest was 9 seconds.) Despite having a tougher time standing up to others, this is a pretty strong point in my personality, I would think. Laughing rids me of any frustrating problems and makes me real happy. The only thing better than that is making others laugh or smile. It shows genuine joy, and pretty much anybody can [should] laugh: one from a whole different country, one much older or younger than you, it doesn't matter, we can all laugh.

A friend joked once, saying that I was laugh too much, and that my "laugh-o-meter" was running out. Apparently, we have this "laugh-o-meter" thing that indicates the amount of laughter we have in our lives, and I'm "using it up too soon" and I will be "a boring, monotonous person" when I grow old. For me, I think everybody's "laugh-o-meter" is the same: It's infinite.

In fact, I have a "the funniest thing happened today!" every. single. day.

-my.great.ESCAPE.

:D
xD

Staring at Headlights

Do you ever lie to yourself? Disguise the facts from yourself, manipulate them, or perhaps completely disregard them just so they fit your wants and feelings. Maybe you’d even like them to be true, you’d love for them to be right, but you don’t accept it. In the back of your head you always think, maybe, just maybe it really is true, but your mind, your consciousness tells you no, that you can’t think of it like that. You could do this to yourself for any number of reasons, but they all add up to one thing, you’re afraid. You’re scared of hurting yourself, others, those you care about, or you’re afraid of yourself. You’re not willing to face yourself, to stand up to yourself, to look yourself in the eye. You can’t tell yourself to, you can’t force yourself to, and you just don’t have the right mindset to do it. You’re scared of what you could do, of what could happen, of how stupid you could look, of how useless it would be, how futile it would become. Then, you just think too much. Everything you do or say, you think about to yourself, and everything else that you don’t think about, ends up falling apart.

Have you ever thought that being there for those you care about, could mean hiding from them? To protect them, you hide from them, create some kind of shallow mask for them to see. You’re afraid that them seeing you would create more harm than good. And you believe that when you do let go of that mask, when you free yourself, bombs and battles are there instead dreams and wishes.

You need to stand in the spotlight you’re afraid of. You need to stare at those headlights, and realize, that standing there won’t do much less than send you to a hospital broken and wounded, or worse. You have to move, it doesn’t matter how slowly, since you’re almost there anyway.

I want to start a little something. If this works…then hooray. If it doesn’t then I’ll look like a big butt…

But here goes…

I want all of you…anyone who’s reading this... to name something they really like…or love…it could be a band, album, movie, t.v. show, person, ideal, anything (or all, or several)…and just say why you like it…and then…I want you to respond in some way to the person before you…I don’t mean bashing their opinions or anything…but disagreeing is fine…so…let’s see how the fireworks fly tonight…

Well…the first person who does it can respond to whoever they want I guess
It can be in a comment…or in a post...or anything

Goodness I’m seriously scared about this and I don’t know why I’m doing this…but…as one of my favorite people ever once said….,”but who fu****g cares?”

-digital delay

The Privilege of Childhood

It's back to babbling about random-stuff-that-doesn't-relate-to-the-theme.

This time, I'm going to delve back into my past...way, way back. The time when I still chewed on tissue and swallowed gum and made sound effects with my mouth while playing action figures.

Childhood is seriously the best time of our lives. We get to play, mess around, have fun, and not ever have to care about the world. We had people that watched over us, we had people who fed us, and we could eat everything we wanted and not have to worry about your health (well, maybe not the tissue and gum).

It's also the time we do completely absurd things—you know, the things that we look back on and we start laughing, "Oh my god, I did WHAT? I so did not walk down an aisle hand-in-hand with a flowergirl holding a pillow with a ring on it." ...yes, I did that.

One of the things I laugh about myself were my imaginative stories that I wrote. Here's an excerpt from a story I wrote, Mike and the Mystery of Tike, way back when I was eight years old:

"There lived a boy named Mike MaCarthy. He just loves frogs and toads so much that his parents bought him a toad. He named it Tike. One day in school, his best friend Mark said that he loves frogs and toads too but his parents wouldn't let him. Mike was sorry for him. Mark even said he tried to go to the pond and catch his own toad. But Mike knew that he wouldn't catch it because he isn't even good at catching a ball!"

Yeah, that was one of my better-grammared one (by the way, I left it genuinely as it is). If you're wondering, the story goes on and Mike had to 'solve the mystery' to find his lost toad. Turns out, his friend took it.

One of other 'mystery'-themed stories was Where's Kim?:

"One morning,, the Tyson family was getting ready for a trip to Las Vegas. "Hurry up kids! We're about to go!", shouted Mr. Tyson. "All right!", yelled both of the sisters, Kathy and Kim...While Mr. Tyson was driving, both sisters played. Kim was 6 years old so she played with kid stuffs. Kathy was 13 so she write, draw, and do what other teenagers do."

Same as before, I left it genuinely as it is, grammar and all. The story continues on, and Kim gets kidnapped while sitting at a McDonald's restaurant, where her sister failed at her babysitting skills. They went on a wild goose chase, and eventually tracked Kim down at the MGM, where the kidnapper was about to blow up a bomb. They managed to save Kim in time. YES, I know, lengthy and weird...but that's what I thought was 'cool' back then.

Anyways, I would dive into my old second grade journal, but I feel lazy. But I'll tell you, you'll be laughing on the ground by the time I finish telling you what I wrote in my journal...but I won't, so sit right where you are.

And yes, I did make funky sounds while playing with my action figures. Hey, it was fun you know.

-the clam.