Laugh to Live

If she would have given up five years ago she would be nowhere now. The laughter, the crying, the yelling and the clapping would be nothing more than a dream. If she would have listened to that particular voice in her head, she would have just walked away. We are all schizophrenic, listening to different voices in our heads, all telling us something different, all wanting something different from us. Luckily she listened to the voice that told her to not quit, to keep going, tell another joke, walk out on another stage and laugh another day. That voice was no less prophetic than the other ones, no less prophetic, but much more holy. That voice was the only one that urged her to follow her dreams, walk with her talents and her loves. She loved telling jokes and making people laugh, now more than ever.
Whatever happens she doesn’t care, at least she cares a lot less where the competition goes than where she finds happiness. She’ll always have clubs, bars, and special events to tell her jokes in. Five years ago though, she would never have imagined that she would care more about her jokes than she would about telling her jokes. That may sound a bit confusing, why would someone care so much about a joke if they can’t tell it. Well, the joke is in the creating and in the telling, you’re right. The joke isn’t in the size of the audience or the general social construction of a particular audience; the joke is in her heart, and if she can please first and foremost her soul then she will be able to please souls wherever she goes.