My witty, insightful joke fell flat, and as the crowd stared at me, I felt my soul wither just a little more. I despise these too-serious people, so unwilling to laugh and loosen up. It was as though they were accepting a challenge to refuse to smile, much like children do. My material was new and untried, worthy of a chuckle or a guffaw. Again I timed my punch line with perfection, the smooth delivery a polished, even genius effort on my part. Silence was unacceptable, but the jeers that now began to slither through the rows of seats inflamed my rage further and the high emotion coupled with the hot lights of the stage threatened my sanity. The stage wept with me as I trudged to the left, exiting the only place I truly belong. The bright lights that caress me so adoringly are suddenly absent, and I am as a lost child in the dark, searching, unsure of where to exist. The limelight is my world, and I can never stay away for long. The need to be adored is all consuming, like a cancer that I welcome if only I can satisfy its demands.
At long last, I hear the crowd laugh! But they laugh at another- an amateur! His lowbrow humor disgusts me almost as much as the delighted reaction he gets from the crowd and jealousy devours my reason. My body hums with tension, barely leashed, and my shaking hands clench into fists that I use to awkwardly wipe stinging sweat from my eyes. The crowd is riotous now, coming to life, blossoming for a false sun. Unable to contain the violence screaming to avenge me, I pivot away and sprint through the door, unnoticed by the callous rabble with their inane giggling. The frigid wind blasts me with a rejection of its own and I continue to race, faster and faster, trying to outrun the demon on my heels. My arms and legs pump along with my pulse as my heart twists into a sinister being with a life of its own.
I race down side streets and back alleys and still I run, as impotent and helpless as a neutered stray kicked aside by society. Tears stream down my cheeks as my muscles finally give out, my strength gone. I bend over, gasping with desperation, knowing that I am a broken thing, found to be unfunny, therefore of no real value in this life or any other. The mental collapse that has been a long time coming hits me with the force of a chainsaw through half melted chocolate and I wilt to the pavement, refusing to acknowledge the curious onlookers, peering at me like vultures waiting for my last breath. I lie helpless in silent submission, my eyes stubbornly closed to the newest joke, an old fashioned one-liner that has defeated me with the sucker-punch-line of my total breakdown.