This Is Why I Laugh At You

I have learned from some of the best. Not all of the best, might I point out. Some of the greats hold out on sharing anything at all with those outside of their close circles. Of course, those circles remain small, and it is never in one’s best interest to be a part of that group; you’re sure to end up prematurely dead.

Yet, from those I have been educated by, well, rather mentored by, though, that makes it sound more benign that it is, really, I supposed the laugh, the haughty chortle, the snicker of derision, that implacable inference imposing inferiority upon my victim, that is what I seek to perfect.

You wonder why the laugh is so important. You’ve asked about its significance, its necessity. You’ve surely wondered the legitimacy of such a widely attributed trope, yet, you are not one to ever get to know. You would otherwise, save for my current explanation, be left in the light. For it is only the dark does one see, does one hear, does one’s every sense tingle with the poignancy of this seemingly ubiquitous behavior.

I will allow you to be invited into the darkness. I give you the gift of knowing why you will never feel less than what you do right now.

For one, you’re about to die. You’re defeated. There is less than no hope. There is antihope, there is nothing for you to strive to other than to be nothing, for that would be greater than what I have reduced you to.

I laugh at your misery, at your pathetic position. I smile decidedly upon your fate and gleam with glee at your demise.

Every act I perform, each carefully plotted plan, is an expression of the poetic art that is Villainy.

As you’ve never faced such a dastardly and destructive demise as you do before me now, you’ll have never known the darkness, not truly. Only someone, such as I, who has known this bleak life, would be able to understand the purpose of such an act. Nevertheless, you will feel the effects.

You, sir, shall feel all the weight of which I have carried for so many years. The weight of which no other man would be able to bear. It is the weight to which I have grown accustomed. The weight of which my life has piled upon. The weight of which you shall be squelched by. A rather apropos ending if I say so myself.

Your quashing of those you see, that society sees, as unworthy, is what has brought you here before me; the epitomical cessation of the punishment for deviance. You, the last hero; the last man, the last person, who stands for the disgusting notion of universal morality, ethics.

The behavior you and your peers have exhibited is responsible for so much pain. So much suffering. So much loss. So much… destruction.

I laugh at you because your whole life has accumulated to this. Your reason for existence has finally been revealed to be nothing more than a delusion, an illusion, a preclusion to your understanding of the truth in the world.

Should you have shown yourself to be more compassionate, perhaps you and others could have been saved; your lights dimmed. You could never be so dark, but, per chance you should open your eyes to see just slightly more, the dark would benefit you enough for you to walk deeper into the darkness.

Alas, I laugh at you now. Blinded by your light, you find yourself pitifully sprawled out before me; broken, bleeding, and now buffeted by the weight I have carried.

You believed in a world of right versus wrong, justice and judgement. I know a world of nothing but gray plains and the shadows of the clouds above.

This is why I laugh at you.