Our comical apocalypse.
We’re laughing at the fact of laughter, that anyone laughs, that anyone has ever laughed.
We’re laughing … at ourselves laughing … at ourselves laughing. Our laughter is becoming abyssal in the night.
A cosmic laugher.
The universe, in us, finds itself amusing. The universe understands that it’s told itself a joke. That the creation itself was a joke.
On what? On who?
On the created, of course. On us – all of us.
Laughter, instead of the silence of the universe. Laughter, at the silence of the universe.
Laughing at our manacles. Laughing at our muzzles.
Work in Progress 