The ones that make your stomach hurt. It reaches your eyes and mine. It’s dizzying how good it feels. You make ma forget everything whole. For a moment, we are whole. It comes in equal waves, these moments to match the bad. They are everywhere. Sometimes I lose sight of them, so you take my hand and guide me here. But I can’t find you these days. So today, I’m reaching around, into the empty dark, the silence that has become all I hear. I wish you were here.
Ha ha ha. Steve was right, laughing can be a sign of resistance. Yet, in the laughing all resistance dissipates.
Carl
Laughter is a strange thing. If you’re in on the joke, it feels, breathtaking, enlightening, moving. And if you’re not, it feels like the cruelest thing in the world. It feels like everybody and everything is against you. As we trudged through the city, through the rows and the columns, we could feel the rank, vile disgust of the cityfolk we had sworn to protect.
Nick
Crin’s sweet honeyed laughter warmed the hearts of all in the room.-That is, all but one, Iynh. Iynh hated sweet things and was allergic to honey. She was not bewitched by Crin’s convincing act.
Lucas was laughing hysterically. How could he possibly be a mutant? It was absurd. He’d never had anything weird happen to him in his entire life, and he was entirely too logical for this to be happening. And why now? He was 16 already. Hadn’t most mutants found out about it when they were children? There was nothing else to do but laugh.
Zhelana
It’s good to have a laugh every once in a while. Laughing makes you feel good!
Ted
The way she was laughing made me want to cry. Not because it was bad, or because it was at me, but because it reminded me of my mother’s laugh, and because I hadn’t heard a laugh like that for so many years I didn’t even know if I had ever heard it at all.
Marlowe
There was this girl sitting in the library, studying perhaps, reading perhaps, nobody knows. Perhaps, she was daydreaming. But she was laughing, and laughing, and laughing. Nobody knows what she was thinking about. But I knew I was concerned about her mental health.
Rose
he loved to watch her laugh. there was something scintillating about her smile. she lit up the area, the room, the people around her. he would often notice that when she laughed, she attracted the attention of everyone around. not awkward or weird attention, but you could see the interest in their face when they looked at hers. she was the definition of laughing.
Me and my friends were watching Jeff Dunham. they were complaining to me that I never laugh but Jeff Dunham took out Peanut and that turned out to be the first time they heard me laugh. it is the same when it comes to dresses.
angel
laughing makes my heart happy. laughing makes my days better, the hard times easier. I love to laugh. l can laugh at myself, at the jokes from my 8 year old, the silly things my 2 year old says. laughter makes my life better.
Mayre Jane Larson
I taught them how to say the word in my language and the group began laughing uniformly. I too, out of confusion, began laughing. I pronounced the word a few more times, listening to them imitating me; the laughter continued. As I lay in my cot that night, I replayed the scene in my head thinking of how the men and women and children loved to hear me speak. We shared a moment of communication and joy, regardless of the fact that my language was a language utterly foreign to them. As I recalled the translator telling me they thought the word “sounded funny,” I laughed by myself under the canopy of magnificent trees.
Thinning out, everything. As if my eyes can’t open all the way. As if my voice went too high and suddenly it’s gone. I’m not sure…. I’m not sure when I last made a sound, or what I said, or maybe I just closed ct. Words pushed out like a huff of breath, and I wait for an incredulous look to know the moment I’m not making real sentences anymore. Sometimes all I manage are empty platitudes, dropping all build-up or explanations I’m fond of, instead blindfolding my words and dropping them in the middle of a desert, and letting them dry out and shrivel. I’m not one to promote silence with so many words to be said, but I’m already half under, so my jaw clenches and flexes, and I want to drown in it.
No room in my empty space to be worried, not now, not anymore.
Am I taking it in from the outside, or a producer? I feel like it is a reading on everything, on declines and subsides and sidelines. But to trust a feeling echoing in an empty space is risk enough. It wouldn’t be something I could change or shake, so I’ll hold it quietly until I break. I know this ride and where the spiral ends.
It is slow, when destruction had come so fast, but there it is: a bit of green. Starting so small and timid but eventually breaking through the dead grass to its former glory. I count the leaves, they are all there, more or less. A bit of sunlight bounces off of me until I can’t help but reflect a little, after having been filled with something so familiar, so comforting, Slowing, I push the deadened grass aside.
She heard the bubbling sound of joy from the next room and she smiled into the soapy water of the sink. She shook her hands and wiped them on the towel on the counter, leaning against the island and listening to the sounds of life in the house. It was nice.
Whoever makes me laugh is a candidate to be one of my best friends.
Fahrettin Onder
Her eyes were laughing, but she was not. That was just how we communicated. In the most serious of meetings such as this, where we had to straighten our faces and settle for furtive glances and snickering eyes.
Rachel
when the world shed it’s crudity all she had to do was smile
Sheftha Bukhari
Snorting, giggling, chuckling, rumbling through you like unstoppable waves, crash after crash that leaves your sides aching and the muscles straining across your face, worse than any short sprint or fanatic soul cycle session.
she kept laughing until she couldn’t breathe. It was the happiest she felt in a long time. The laughter wasn’t just something you could hear, it was something you could see in her eyes. Laughter definitely felt like a remedy
pickled_thoughts
I love your laugh. Every time I make you laugh, it shocks me still. But I wish it didn’t. I wish I could keep moving and make you laugh over and over again. I wish I could let go enough that I would have you in tears. I wish I didn’t make you feel bad for her making you laugh. I want so many people to do that for you. I fucking miss you.
Ashley
she laughed heartily at her bestfriend’s silly expression and a sudden realizaton washed over,..she was on love with her best friend.
Dylan carter
The crinkle in the crease of the eyes that grow deeper with a life well lived. The first giggle of a new baby in the arms of a new parent who is crying the first real tears they have had in a long time.
Michelle Lynch
Jeremy couldn’t stop laughing, not even when he boarded the escalator and nearly tumbled down to the bottom due to his shaking and rocking and tilting. His guffaws could be heard in every store of the mall, with rich, elitist consumers pausing mid-scour of a pricey shirt rack to hear his never-ending cascade of bemusement. For a moment, we thought he had gone mad, but he wiped his eyes finally and began to breathe normally once we neared the food court; after all, he had to calm down if he wanted to eat.
Belinda Roddie
I try and fail
“Get up, try again”
I follow this internal voice
once again I fall flat on my face
“Don’t give up!”
Invisible cheerleader within my soul
Another attempt, another blunder
Each time I rise it gets harder and harder
My body seems ever heavier
“You can do it!”
another defeat
still, slowly, to my feet I rise
amidst the echoes
countless voices laughing
foes taunting
enemies jeering
even friends, snickering
seemingly everyone seeks my demise
alasthepoetwarrior
They’re laughing. I know they’re laughing at me. Not with, no one ever does that. No one in this world seems to share my sense of humor. I’m floating above. And they’re still laughing. Will they ever stop? Will they ever laugh with me?
The laughter started when I walked into the room, and I almost lost my balance simply reaching for my first drink. The laughing was so loud, to me at the time, that I hesitated, only for a second, and then put the drink down, back on the bar. I approached the crowd as I was.
something sometimes uncontrollable. something that makes you feel good after. sometimes your stomach will hurt and sometimes it makes your head hurt . sometimes you’ll even cry but only because something was really funny. it is something more people need to do and the professionals who make it happen are gifted!
maforbeng sanga
it runs through the cracks in the night like ichor.
setting bones on fire
and eyes aflame.
you will remember this night
and all nights before and after it
as having a sun in them. such is the power of joy.
The ones that make your stomach hurt. It reaches your eyes and mine. It’s dizzying how good it feels. You make ma forget everything whole. For a moment, we are whole. It comes in equal waves, these moments to match the bad. They are everywhere. Sometimes I lose sight of them, so you take my hand and guide me here. But I can’t find you these days. So today, I’m reaching around, into the empty dark, the silence that has become all I hear. I wish you were here.
Ha ha ha. Steve was right, laughing can be a sign of resistance. Yet, in the laughing all resistance dissipates.
Laughter is a strange thing. If you’re in on the joke, it feels, breathtaking, enlightening, moving. And if you’re not, it feels like the cruelest thing in the world. It feels like everybody and everything is against you. As we trudged through the city, through the rows and the columns, we could feel the rank, vile disgust of the cityfolk we had sworn to protect.
Crin’s sweet honeyed laughter warmed the hearts of all in the room.-That is, all but one, Iynh. Iynh hated sweet things and was allergic to honey. She was not bewitched by Crin’s convincing act.
Lucas was laughing hysterically. How could he possibly be a mutant? It was absurd. He’d never had anything weird happen to him in his entire life, and he was entirely too logical for this to be happening. And why now? He was 16 already. Hadn’t most mutants found out about it when they were children? There was nothing else to do but laugh.
It’s good to have a laugh every once in a while. Laughing makes you feel good!
The way she was laughing made me want to cry. Not because it was bad, or because it was at me, but because it reminded me of my mother’s laugh, and because I hadn’t heard a laugh like that for so many years I didn’t even know if I had ever heard it at all.
There was this girl sitting in the library, studying perhaps, reading perhaps, nobody knows. Perhaps, she was daydreaming. But she was laughing, and laughing, and laughing. Nobody knows what she was thinking about. But I knew I was concerned about her mental health.
he loved to watch her laugh. there was something scintillating about her smile. she lit up the area, the room, the people around her. he would often notice that when she laughed, she attracted the attention of everyone around. not awkward or weird attention, but you could see the interest in their face when they looked at hers. she was the definition of laughing.
Laughing, i like when this happens i love the feeling of joy of laughter its a nice feeling.
My joyous soul laughs when I am near you purely because we are both alive.
Me and my friends were watching Jeff Dunham. they were complaining to me that I never laugh but Jeff Dunham took out Peanut and that turned out to be the first time they heard me laugh. it is the same when it comes to dresses.
laughing makes my heart happy. laughing makes my days better, the hard times easier. I love to laugh. l can laugh at myself, at the jokes from my 8 year old, the silly things my 2 year old says. laughter makes my life better.
I taught them how to say the word in my language and the group began laughing uniformly. I too, out of confusion, began laughing. I pronounced the word a few more times, listening to them imitating me; the laughter continued. As I lay in my cot that night, I replayed the scene in my head thinking of how the men and women and children loved to hear me speak. We shared a moment of communication and joy, regardless of the fact that my language was a language utterly foreign to them. As I recalled the translator telling me they thought the word “sounded funny,” I laughed by myself under the canopy of magnificent trees.
Thinning out, everything. As if my eyes can’t open all the way. As if my voice went too high and suddenly it’s gone. I’m not sure…. I’m not sure when I last made a sound, or what I said, or maybe I just closed ct. Words pushed out like a huff of breath, and I wait for an incredulous look to know the moment I’m not making real sentences anymore. Sometimes all I manage are empty platitudes, dropping all build-up or explanations I’m fond of, instead blindfolding my words and dropping them in the middle of a desert, and letting them dry out and shrivel. I’m not one to promote silence with so many words to be said, but I’m already half under, so my jaw clenches and flexes, and I want to drown in it.
No room in my empty space to be worried, not now, not anymore.
Am I taking it in from the outside, or a producer? I feel like it is a reading on everything, on declines and subsides and sidelines. But to trust a feeling echoing in an empty space is risk enough. It wouldn’t be something I could change or shake, so I’ll hold it quietly until I break. I know this ride and where the spiral ends.
It is slow, when destruction had come so fast, but there it is: a bit of green. Starting so small and timid but eventually breaking through the dead grass to its former glory. I count the leaves, they are all there, more or less. A bit of sunlight bounces off of me until I can’t help but reflect a little, after having been filled with something so familiar, so comforting, Slowing, I push the deadened grass aside.
She heard the bubbling sound of joy from the next room and she smiled into the soapy water of the sink. She shook her hands and wiped them on the towel on the counter, leaning against the island and listening to the sounds of life in the house. It was nice.
Whoever makes me laugh is a candidate to be one of my best friends.
Her eyes were laughing, but she was not. That was just how we communicated. In the most serious of meetings such as this, where we had to straighten our faces and settle for furtive glances and snickering eyes.
when the world shed it’s crudity all she had to do was smile
Snorting, giggling, chuckling, rumbling through you like unstoppable waves, crash after crash that leaves your sides aching and the muscles straining across your face, worse than any short sprint or fanatic soul cycle session.
she kept laughing until she couldn’t breathe. It was the happiest she felt in a long time. The laughter wasn’t just something you could hear, it was something you could see in her eyes. Laughter definitely felt like a remedy
I love your laugh. Every time I make you laugh, it shocks me still. But I wish it didn’t. I wish I could keep moving and make you laugh over and over again. I wish I could let go enough that I would have you in tears. I wish I didn’t make you feel bad for her making you laugh. I want so many people to do that for you. I fucking miss you.
she laughed heartily at her bestfriend’s silly expression and a sudden realizaton washed over,..she was on love with her best friend.
The crinkle in the crease of the eyes that grow deeper with a life well lived. The first giggle of a new baby in the arms of a new parent who is crying the first real tears they have had in a long time.
Jeremy couldn’t stop laughing, not even when he boarded the escalator and nearly tumbled down to the bottom due to his shaking and rocking and tilting. His guffaws could be heard in every store of the mall, with rich, elitist consumers pausing mid-scour of a pricey shirt rack to hear his never-ending cascade of bemusement. For a moment, we thought he had gone mad, but he wiped his eyes finally and began to breathe normally once we neared the food court; after all, he had to calm down if he wanted to eat.
I try and fail
“Get up, try again”
I follow this internal voice
once again I fall flat on my face
“Don’t give up!”
Invisible cheerleader within my soul
Another attempt, another blunder
Each time I rise it gets harder and harder
My body seems ever heavier
“You can do it!”
another defeat
still, slowly, to my feet I rise
amidst the echoes
countless voices laughing
foes taunting
enemies jeering
even friends, snickering
seemingly everyone seeks my demise
They’re laughing. I know they’re laughing at me. Not with, no one ever does that. No one in this world seems to share my sense of humor. I’m floating above. And they’re still laughing. Will they ever stop? Will they ever laugh with me?
The laughter started when I walked into the room, and I almost lost my balance simply reaching for my first drink. The laughing was so loud, to me at the time, that I hesitated, only for a second, and then put the drink down, back on the bar. I approached the crowd as I was.
something sometimes uncontrollable. something that makes you feel good after. sometimes your stomach will hurt and sometimes it makes your head hurt . sometimes you’ll even cry but only because something was really funny. it is something more people need to do and the professionals who make it happen are gifted!
it runs through the cracks in the night like ichor.
setting bones on fire
and eyes aflame.
you will remember this night
and all nights before and after it
as having a sun in them. such is the power of joy.