Sometimes I feel like I am about to figure out the punchline.

Everyone stops and watches.
Waits to see if we can end the charade.

Here—
Let me try—

Infant dies in NICU, never gets to question the nature of its existence.

No—
Wait—

Three year old child chokes on toy labeled not for children under the age of four.

No—
Hold up—

Six year old drowns in pool; parents too ****** up to notice.

No, no—
****—

It doesn’t have that ring of humor to it, that can’t be it.

I can feel it though, the laughter on the tip of my tongue waiting to boil over.

Here—
Let me try again—

Nine year old finds his parent’s candy, suffocates on his own *****.

No, no, no —
I’m close, I can feel it—
How about—

12 year old child plays with power tools, electrocuted.

No, no, no—
No, no—

21 year old man drives drunk, crashes into cemetery.

No, no, no—
No, no—
No, no—

25 year old man gets ******* sick of trying to see what’s on the other side of the painting, takes a bath in his own blood.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—

Wait—
Here—

ENTIRE GENERATION spends their whole lives trying to distract themselves from the fact of their mortality.

None Survive.