Laugh

Isn’t it funny that we laugh at all?

Laughing when the joke is actually hilarious, when the ignorance is so real that it’s almost unbelievable, when I’m sad but would rather not be, when the room is dead quiet and I know I’m not supposed to but can they blame me? We’ve all done it, don’t lie.

But my point is, the fact that there’s a reaction programmed into our bodies for positive stimuli - just like there is for negative, nasty, grueling, arduous stimuli that should go fuck itself - is reassuring.  That means, as far as I know, we’re supposed to be able to feel joy and mirth and happiness, which I knew anyway - it’s not a revelation - but to have solid proof is pretty damn great.

To be able to fake a laugh should be a crime.

But then, I’d probably be issued a life sentence, no parole.  Oops.

The thing is, laughing to make someone else feel good isn’t… generous.  It isn’t like you’re doing that person a favor, unless you consider patronization a favor.

But it’s so easy to want to protect the feelings of those you hold dear; it’s so easy to want to be able to laugh at certain things, so you do and it makes you feel a little more normal in the end; it’s actually kind of emotionally and mentally taxing to laugh when it’s not appropriate, but still very physically easy at the same time.

To be able to fake a laugh is to be able to fabricate a positive response to relatively neutral stimuli.  And if you’re faking a positive response in the presence of those that know what your actual positive response looks like, you’re fucked.

But that’s an entirely different can of worms that I can’t find the opener for, so maybe a different drabble on a different day about “faking it ‘til you make it - or at least until someone senses that you’re faking it.”

Maybe I should start giving these titles.