Saturday, February 02, 2008

C word.

He tried to make me feel bad by calling me a clown.

I thought about it while we were talking, wondering if it was true.

It stung for a second because maybe he was right that i was.

Maybe that was who i was, maybe everyone agreed.
Maybe it was time to go. Leave the microphone.

Is it because i do my elvis impressions, the penguin poems, is it the jokes was it because i dressed up like a pirate once, it was just once.

I started to laugh at myself. I laughed good. I felt better, I felt good. It was healing.
I like laughing,

I love to hear it from others, it is the gift i try to give. it is medicine for our times.

Clown? Maybe?
There are worse things to be than a clown.


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