Just saying... Laughter...

Stop the world, I want to get off.

Well, I don't, actually. Not really. The world is a pretty fine place to be, methinks. I just like the saying. Like, "Is there intelligent life on Earth? Yes, but I'm only visiting." I don't think everyone else on the planet is stupid. Far from it. Not everyone (lol). It's just one of those things that appeals to my sense of humour.

Yes, I have a sense of humour. It can be sharp, it can be dark. It can even be smutty (in the best POSSIBLE taste, as Kenny Everett would say), but it's there, nonetheless.

I mean, you've got to laugh, haven't you? There's so much pain and tears and woe in the world, you've GOT to laugh. You GOT to have smiles at some point of your day. You can't go all day without the glimmer of a grin, can you? Well, I can't. I do have laughter, guaranteed, at some point of every day. That's just how my life is. Granted, it's taken me all my life to get to this point. Granted, I'll admit, there's times when I went more than a day without a smile or a laugh or even a happy thought.

But that's probably why I embrace my sense of humour more so now. I've done the pain. I hope for good. One can hope, can't one? Don't we need hope? There's trip wires and traps lacing the jungle of life and I'm no Indiana Jones, but I'll do my best to avoid them where I can.

Not that it was always like that. Sin, my main character, is my 'Dark Half'. He stems from the times I did fall into the chasm. When I was battling giant scorpions and being chased by huge boulders. He's the voice of the Me that I buried to help deal with life at a time when Life and myself didn't quite see eye to eye.

Or, he might just be my excuse to think about things that i wouldn't otherwise ponder.

I'm not saying. Maybe I don't really know.

But, there's been darkness. And now there's light. So I know, you have simply GOT to laugh.

Doesn't laughter release endorphins or something? Good for the soul? Good for the heart?

Good for the sanity, as far as I'm concerned. And, from someone who's written of an escaped mental patient, that's quite appropriate.

Sometimes I waffle and talk about nothing in particular. Sometimes I waffle and think I'm talking about nothing in particular, when, in actual fact, the meaning slips through my words like water through my fingers.

I'm not sure which this was.

Anywho...

What's E.T. short for? 'Cos he's got little legs.

Just saying...