There was nothing funny at all, and even I know that. "I'm sorry," I managed in between breaths and I truly did mean it. It was horrifying that I was even smiling but I couldn't stop it, something was happening to me from within but I just can't pinpoint what exactly.
We were on a serious topic, that's for sure, and it's something that holds such an important place in my heart. I'd be enraged if I heard anyone undermining the severity of it or even making a joke out of it. It's so difficult to say this but I've been through instances like these too many a times, and I knew how real it could get.
Sometimes I wonder, why? Why am I not ignorant about such things, why can't I see simplicity in everything, why do I constantly get involved, but most importantly, was there anything I could even do anymore. Honestly, I don't blame anyone or anything, only myself.
I laugh, not because anything's funny. It's stupid. Laughter, they say, shows that you're happy. It's a physical manifestation of joy. For me, I believe it has morphed into something else; it's now the only way I am able to experience any form of emotion at all - and that's what it is: the feeling of laughter. Just laughter. Just the act of smiling, taking in huge breaths of air and clutching my abdomen as I burst into fits, occasionally accompanied with tears. When I should supposedly be feeling pain, or worry, or sadness, or hurt, or worry, I laugh. A chasm of consciousness, a temporary escape.
When I'm empty, I also tend to fill the void with laughter. I mean, it's what makes the people around me happy, at least I'm doing something useful by spreading positive energy, even though it's not something innately from within myself. It's fake happiness, but I just hope it brings others a genuine emotion.
No longer human anymore, rather, dehumanized. Although that isn't exactly the right word for describing what this truly is, it sounds more futuristic, and it lends a slight fantasy feel to it. The exact word is too real for my liking.
And don't pretend you care, I don't need any of that - because I don't like acting either. It's too much work. To put the truth out there, I can no longer feel anything anymore and so I have lost my ability to feel for you.
There's so much I had wanted to say on that fateful day and I did try to, stopping short every time I started, brushing myself off with a "never mind, it's fine" and of course, a choppy laugh in place of the silence because there were so many more urgent, pressing issues I had to handle. I was also slightly worried that I'd appear too vulnerable and that'd be a cause of concern, most definitely. What place does my psychological well-being have in this society anyway, and honestly I've gotten to the point where I'm just able to subdue all of these thoughts to the bottom of my priority list.
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