Laughter Like A Foghorn (I Can't Control This Ugly Sound)

Feat. The Make-Up Criminal.

i'm not one of those people
who laughs prettily.

no, i have a laugh like
a thousand church bells 
- fast, loud, and high.

it's not nice.

i'm actually really
self-conscious about it. 
every time it happens
i tell myself that i'll hold it in
next time.

i never manage to do so.
it explodes from my chest
like some sort of annoying 
bombardment of sound.

my sister, the Make-Up Criminal,
said today
"Good lord, [HerSub], what the hell was that?"
and then proceeded 
to tell me to never do it again.

i was laughing.

i cannot tell you 
how much that hurt.

my laugh is something about me
that i hate with a passion.

i hate a lot of things about myself
- my nose, my skin, my weight,
my writing, my personality,
my anxiety/depression/whatever else i have-
but those are different.

they aren't something
that's supposed to convey
my mirth at something,
they aren't a symbol of amusement.

i'm not a funny person.
i'm a dry-humor kind of person,
mostly sarcasm and the occasional reference,
but i generally listen to other people being funny.

my laughter isn't something i can change.

i've been made fun of for it before,
but it's different coming from my sister.

goddammit, it hurts.

i hate feeling hurt.

i've tried to carve it out of my chest before,
tried to burn my emotions out,
swept up the cinders and eaten them,
in a desperate attempt
to preserve this soulless state of being.

my laughter isn't something that i can control.

i don't know how.

and yet people are telling me
to try to contain
the scarce feeling of of mirth
that i feel these days.

The End

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