repetition. repetition. variation.
the three of comedy.
and yet, i read the things i have written at fifteen, nineteen, and since the glory of facebook...even just three years ago. and i feel every moment of everything i composed in the past. i could write it again with the same fingers tip tapping out the arial font- clickity click clack. with the same ache and joy. working by moonlight and wrapping my thoughts in the thick, velvety blanket of night...posing queries like i have never met a lick of melatonin in my small, earthly existence.
the question becomes: is this humorous?! well, i suppose i should find the comedy in my life...so thank you, gods of memory and of media. i am now laughing with the constellations, and it's definitely the best kind of raucousness- straight from the belly.
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