I laugh. I laugh very often. I laugh not only when I am happy, but also when I’m nervous, sad, annoyed, angry, anxious, worried, hurt, tired, and bored. No, no, I don’t laugh to express my emotions. I don’t make those sarcastic laughs when I’m irritated, or nervous laughs when I feel pressured. It’s actually the opposite way around.
When my lab partner accidentally knocks over the solution I have been preparing for three hours, I produce an “oh-it’s-no-big-deal-I-can-easily-make-it-again” laugh. When he or she turns around, I curse and laments silently in my mind.
When I am meet the interviewers who would determine whether I get the position I yearn for or not, I give them big “hi-this-is-me-and-I-am-smart-and-perfect-and-you-should-love-me” laughs, while truthfully I want to run out of the room and hide in a corner.
Laughing is good. It is a good mask that can hide all emotions and weaknesses. Laugher is like a bullet-proof jacket. When getting shot, people cheer and are amazed that I am not harmed. But in fact I am screaming and bleeding inside, and a huge bruise with a diameter of 5 inches will appear next morning on my belly.
Because, in fact, I am just this vulnerable little human being who is scared. I am scared of the world, I am scared of the people around me, I am scared of what they are thinking about me, I am scared of how they would judge me. Maybe I’m even scared of myself.
So I laugh to hide. I’m hiding like a ribosome in a cellular cell that is in a bacterium that is in a mass of goo that is on a pinhead that is on a needle that is in a haystack that is in a container that is in the sea. And I feel safe.
But do I like to laugh? The muscles on my face are screaming for some peace. But I still need to laugh.