comedy

I find it much easier to write angst than humor.  I want to feel happy, but I feel angst.   I shaved my dog.  It was funny.  But then it started to be less funny.  And there were a lot of questions.  Mostly about me (a few about my parents and one about my high school guidance counselor's suggestive note in my yearbook).  And once you've shaved the dog for a laugh, it's done, it's over.  Shaving the cat will be derivative.  Then, of course, there will be nagging abuse issues...and, all of a sudden, it will be decided that it was NEVER funny to shave the dog.  And, all of a sudden, you're the angst ridden loser you always were.  Write what you know.

guess

Why did you not notice?  Did you not care?
I did it for you.
I thought.  At the time.
But.  I guess it was for me.  
I wish you had noticed.
But.  
I guess you were hoping I noticed.

hope grows

Something is growing inside of me.  At first, I thought it was growing on me.  I searched.  I felt, I prodded, I rubbed, I stared, I stroked and poked.  I longed and fantasized.  I became obsessed, but found nothing of lasting substance.  I was clearly an exhausted victim of pleasured concern, but not a receiver of lasting satisfaction. 
Sorry, I think I got distracted. Where was I?  Oh, yeah...the growth is on the inside.  I think it (the growth) may be someone with whom I disagree.  Not completely alien, just unpleasant, like a politician.  Inside me.  Growing.  
I hope it stops growing so that I do not end up with a clever epitaph...I can't explain that except to note that something I predicted was inside of me, growing, and ended up killing me, may provide for a clever epitaph...but maybe it is something good that is growing inside of me.
Seems unlikely that an unexpected growth would be good, but maybe. Maybe.  I'll try to stay positive. My growth might be a celebrity!  A famous celebrity making a triumphant return to this glorious earthly realm.  I hope it is Samuel Langhorne Clemons...or Frank Sinatra...I'd LOVE to croon like Sinatra...but, it is probably a tumor. Probably a tumor, or possibly just a pimple.  Maybe Sinatra's pimple!? 
Yes.  
Now I'm sure of it.
  
Pimple.

Probably common; it can't sing.