Laughter is the best medicine, I've heard it said
So don't take a pill, laugh a little instead
Laugh with the world or laugh at yourself
Laughter isn't a medicine that expires on the shelf

Tell a silly story or a really good joke
You don't know whose laughter your bound to provoke
even a giggle goes a long way
When you're feeling down and are having a bad day

When you don't know what to do, cause your life is a mess
Laugh really loud to deal with the stress
So laughter is the medicine that I recommend
Remember that things workout in the end

Forget the ***** and enjoy the laughter
Then you won't wake up with a hangover the day after
I'll live my life and laugh all I can
Cause I'm laughter's number one fan

Another time I'd write and write
About the world's spite,
My lack of life,
The loss of fight

I sit endlessly thinking,
Writing,
In my mind
As I grind
The little gears in my head

Wasting away is my great fear
Yet I sit here,
Absorbing no knowledge

I hate who I am,

A pathetic use of space
I try to move, I try so hard.
But stay a still lumpy rock
While people knock
And push and pull.

Their words lurk like vultures,
Trying to pick at my pieces.
Churning me up like cream
Waiting for a scream,
A shout,
A call to myself.

But how can I move outside of this cell?

“Oh, Cupid!
Give me your bow and arrow
You are doing an absurd job.
How hard is it to hit the heart of my beloved?”

“Here, I’ll shoot it myself.
I’ll aim and let the arrow fly.
Look. Look how it sinks into her chest.
And watch. Watch as she falls head over heels in love with me.”

“Oh, what?
I missed?
Okay.
I’ll try again.”

“No?
Not this time?
Again.
Can I try again?”

“**** it!
Why?
Why won’t it work?
Why can’t I aim right?”

“What?
I can’t control it?
It’s a force beyond my control?
It’s a power I don’t have?”

“Why then?
Why then!?”

“Why did you shoot me?
Why’d you hit me right in the heart?
What was that for, Cupid?
What was that for!?”

“If you won’t hit her...
If I can’t shoot her...
If she will not fall in love with me—
If I cannot make her fall in love with me..."

“Then why?
Why did you aim at me?
What is this sick game you’re playing?
Tell me Cupid, what is it?”

And I look into the depths of your eyes
In search of the truth,
But I can’t read them.
I can’t find anything that makes sense.

I do not know how you feel
Toward me,
Toward us.
So when I look into them,
Gaze into them a little too long,
And you ask me “what? What is it?”
I say “nothing”,
Because I can’t bring my lips to ask
What my eyes wish they could see
And that is: “How do you really feel about me?”

Me and my Imagination,
We have this relationship where it feeds my mind with delicacies so sweet,
So tender,
Unlike anything my eyes have seen, my ears heard,
My nose smelt, my tongue tasted,
My fingers felt.


It dishes out and dishes out and yet I turn its fruits away.
—No, I say to it. I will taste of you later. I have a million and one things to do.


"Like what?" It bellows.
"What else have you to do but set eyes on these things foreign and curious I show you?"
"What else have you to do but meet these characters,
the vulpine elegant, the kind troubled,
the frenzied queen, the servant king?"

"What else have you to do than trod through melting clouds,
Traipse through deep marshes,
Trek through a city as quiet and solemn as a graveyard
and rove through a spring that collapses into a vast, vast transparent sea?"


But I—


"But what!?"
"Are you afraid of me?
Do you not like these travels?
These adventures?
These strange and peculiar wonders!?"


I do but—


"Why do you forsake me?
You trap me!"


Please! Calm dow—


"No! You deprive me!
A thousand stories I have fixed,
A thousand you have thrashed.
If not you, my genius I want the world to know.
My worlds, the world to see!
My characters, man to meet!"


I cannot—


"Enough of you!
Bile, and tar,
and poison and weeds I add to the cauldron!
Mix, mix and steer!
To sicken your thoughts and dreams, day and night, I shall!
'til cold sweat breaks upon your forehead,
and fright amaze your mind 'til pen to paper you put!"