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I am serious.
Seriously devoted to eating giant banana pancakes, researching homemade rabbit costumes, and thinking about the faces people make during sex. Seriously engaged in irreverent bathroom stall philosophy, in leaving drunk voicemails, and watching awkward flirting in the wild. Seriously invested in hanging by my fingers from this tumbling little planet as it zooms through the cosmos. Serious is as serious does, after all.
Why so serious? Please tell me you did not just ask that to me.
Why would you expect me to be anything else? Give me something to smile about, and then maybe we can have a conversation.
Although given the fact that entries for this challenge do not close anytime soon, I am guessing you will have a difficult time with this.
"Why so serious?", they ask.
I have shared so many reasons,
Told too many excuses,
But I have more.
Which one to choose,
This is my big decision for the day.
Maybe I'll make something up,
Like I always do...
My brother was hit by a car,
My parents are splitting up...
Or I could tell the truth...
I have two months to live,
And I'm spending it at work,
With you people who don't care enough to ask if I'm okay.
"I'll be fine",
In response to the question,
But not the one they asked.
Don’t fight the feeling
Who is the man that sits softly in the night?
What is this feeling that stirs inside?
Where did my soul get permission to dance?
When will it propel me forth to act?
Why must I suffer this passion inside?
How can I fight it? Can I deny it?
The passion inside stirs forth, a volcano.
My body propels forward.
While my mind’s screaming “hell no!”
Deep inside I can’t fight it
I must love and let go. I can’t deny it.
Passion is nature’s distraction.
In All Seriousness
Have you ever heard of the voyager? a space craft made by humans that has made it to the farthest depths of human endevors. It is the first craft to have reached interstellar space. When the voyager took a picture of earth we looked like something of a dot. Just a little dot that no one else in the universe would care about other than us. so why would anyone worry. we're so small, a speck of dust in the middle of a great nothing. We spend all our lives being safe, paying for things; houses, clothes, shoes, cars, insurance. But what for? Everything we ever do is so that we can relax in our final years. Why? Why not enjoy what you do now? make the best of what you do. Why settle when nothing really matters. If you were to be immortal and sitting on the voyager on a great journey eventually ending up somewhere else, would you care anymore what you would have been doing on earth? No. So why be afraid of what you really want to do while your on earth? make the best of what you love and make it happen.
Seriously, why do my typing hands not do something nonsensical for a change? I'll be like Dr. Seuss and create species and for the species, names. My mind reminds me to stay on track, but as you can see, I'm no Jack Black! Testing my patience is seriousness, it's about to go to my head. Someone or something, tell me why I'm so serious, and how to stop this dread!