Tears of Joy

I feel invincible.

Today I had the biggest laugh of my life. At least the biggest burst of laughter in 3 years. 

I have been watching the show of comedian Louis C.K., creatively called Louie, and it is amazing. It is black, dark and foremost raw humor. It is one of the best top quality comedy shows I have seen in my entire life. Maybe some will say I haven’t seen enough and haven’t listened to enough and gone back in time long enough. So lets just  … and I got a call from the boss … [ the word I was looking for was contemporary 

So back on the story, I got a little bit distracted here. 

[ some say I am egocentric and my writing reflects that. Yes. But writing from the first person point of view is the most natural of the storytelling options, including a story line about myself. / first person reference from author Patrick Rothfuss/ . And if I am writing here, I think that is okay. But maybe I should not carry this baggage to the professional aspect of my life. Just most probably maybe not advisable. ] 

So the reason was a sketch about Louie’s marriage and divorce. Not a happy subject. [ NB it was in S04E07 ] Amazing storytelling. The irony, the memory of having the last fuck/intercourse/coitus of their marriage resulting in their first daughter and they ended up having two and only finally divorcing when the second one was three. Just read that sentence again, because I am not re-writing it. And fuck Mark Twain, not really, and his theorem about not having enough time to write shortly, which is absolutely applicable here. I am writing on a whim, on the influence of an outstanding event of my life, which gave me the power to write again. So temporarily fuck Mr Twain. 

I literally held in the starting bubbles of exploding laughter in my throat and ran out of my house. On the way I dropped some of it on my unsuspecting family members, who were in different phases of unorganized sleepiness and getting to bed installations. The reason why I had to hold it back, was an already sleeping [ or at least trying ] brother of mine in the same room. So it was necessary. And they wanted an explanation, which I couldn’t care to provide and didn’t provide on my way back to my room [ which is a section of a room in between the sky [ and sand ] and ground. I had to pee, but I didn’t dare to go down again without an explanation, which was demanded. So I first thought about pissing in a bottle and then writing it down, that later I changed my mind and did go down to use the toilet. I didn’t. I wanted to be true and therefore I made it true. I created the story while it was still formidable. Amazing. The power of creation, just so you can say it did happen and it is accuracy is unquestionable. I had the proof sitting under the table in the company of two other half empty bottles. No one knows what’s really in them, when they see them on the rare occasion when I bring them down to throw them in the garbage can directly. 

Now some people will feel disgusted. And they should. 

So back again. I feel great. I am amidst the ruins of my life, which is my life so it can’t be so bad. 

And now I plan to go downtown and dance. Maybe I will. 



About yorkketchikan

I'm just a boy from Europe, as i was told. I'm young, but not for so far, it's not fair -i know it. This isn't my native language, but i'm trying. Started this one for no better purposes than writing in English, because lots of things come to my mind at first in English, sometimes it's disturbing, sometimes not. I love books, rather said: fond of them. I'm not alike anyone else, maybe this is the main problem, not following the mainstream.... If you corner me, I will come out swinging, taking you with me to the seventh hell of the seventh hell. View all posts by yorkketchikan

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