A nice joke

We can easily see jokes every day – in social conversations, in books, or on TV. And at some points, we all know someone who often tell jokes to socialize, or just to make fun, especially when he appears to be serious on his face… Anyway, a joke at the right time can do many good things: it may be able to change the whole atmosphere and make you feel better than ever.

That’s how a nice joke is. We will recognize its effect right after we hear and think about it. A good laughter may be one of best methods to cure many diseases, but that doesn’t mean you just go out there and try to become a good … joker. (Not ‘Joker’ in Batman, please)

I don’t want to talk about normal jokes which only have the purpose to make us laugh and feel excited about the contents. And most of the time, we tend to like them very much. What I want to say here, is the joke that could even make fun of hardships and help us control our feelings to overcome adversity more calmly.

So, hard + fun = calm. It’s easy to understand, right? But this reaction can only happen when the joke is told at the right time. And that’s what make it ‘nice’. You need to be beaten up, you need to feel down, and then you need to hear it when you really think nothing worse would come. The power you gain from the joke … will be abnormal.

For example, let me tell you about a social training course at TGM Corporation which I used to attend. Its name was “Live and Aspire”. Throughout the course, I listened to many lessons and experiences from the trainers talking about how to live happily to succeed in life. And in any story about dealing with difficulties in life, there were always some jokes, that made us laugh, made us feel better, even curious, and sometimes thoughtful. But when we need to make our own “story” in the course, no jokes came out easily. What I mean when I say “story” is that, we had to experience fighting against hardships, by an action: hitting a piece of wood, no, two pieces at the same time, with the size 20×20. Of course, we were told to hit by our hand – using the bond part near the wrist, to be clear. This experience was a “solid version” of dealing with difficulties in your life: think about your own weaknesses and troubles then write them on the wood, after that focus on it and hit it with the most power that you have, and as much as you can. If you could break and split in into two parts, you were done. If not, just try to make it happen. In short, the answer is always yes: two pieces of wood must be broken.

You can try yourself now, but I won’t tell you that it is so easy. I mean, you can imagine how it is hard, according to the quality of the wood and the so-called growing hand of yours. In my case, it was truly … nearly terrible. In the first turn, I hit it strongest as I could, but after only 3 times, I quitted. No, I mean, I stopped right after the third time and took a rest immediately. You may think, “What the hell with that? No spirit at all!” yeah, and there were still many things in the course which might affect both the body and mind that I haven’t told you yet, but don’t worry, you are right: I was too weak at that time – not outside but inside. I waited for the other in my group to take their first turns, and almost were too hard to succeed, except one guy: He broke it with just one hit. One hit! Oh my goodness. That was perfect, yet painful to me. How can it be?

The time was a rush, and I just remember that I thought so much before my second turn came, I only kept thinking and thinking, about how strong I could be, and how many times I could keep hitting it. I had spent so much time worrying about useless things before, and then, till this point, how could I give up? “Oh, you can’t be dead. Don’t worry.” – that was the first joke inside my mind, well, I called it a joke to me at that time, but you could think of it simply as a boring reason to move on. But somehow it worked and made me hit continuously until the 10th time when I felt … super hurt. Yep, it couldn’t be a nice one yet. “Next!” – the coach shouted to me. And yes, next. Next, next, next. I don’t remember how many it took, but I just know that I felt depressed at myself, and the pain was so clear. My hand was bleeding, not severely, but the blood was really such a mess. The coaches continued to shout and urge me to go on, and they kept asking the reason why I was there, and why I was so indecisive at such an important point of my life. All of them didn’t contain any joke. Not at all. I just heard silently and felt more and more determined to act. But … my hand wouldn’t move. It was shaking. At that time, I just imagined using my left hand to support, or hit instead, just like what the coach suggested. But … it can’t be. Are you kidding me? I don’t think this is a good joke. Just wait and see. 

I closed my eyes, and opened them. I hit the wood for around 10 more times, each time with closing and opening eyes immediately. I also shouted loudly so that anyone can hear. To me now, that 10 times were just too terrible to imagine again. I did as if I didn’t have anything to lose. And yet, the wood seemed still. Great, funny. Haha.

There was somehow, a price that I had already paid at that moment, so an amazing thing appeared for me, inside my mind. Just a thought, but it only came at the right time. When I looked into my hand one more time, the blood was messy everywhere around the edge of the wrist, and even I could see something … beneath. (Well, it’s natural to be like that so don’t take me too harsh). It’s so terrible. And then, a voice came in.

“Machine gun, a machine gun! Olala … The hand as your tool now, it wants to be separate, so let it be. The most powerful tool, yes. Let’s see it. See how far the blood could go out, and let’s make the blood clear all the words you have written on the wood before you. See, they are faded now, by your bloody hand! A bloody move, and a bloody kill! Bang!”

Yeah, at that time. I felt thrilled. It was hurt, yet not so hurt. I could somehow separate the feeling and the mind quite clearly. I was able to think calmly again, and to prepare for a “deadshot” (I have just watched “Suicide Squad” yesterday, and this man Deadshot was my favorite character).

This is gonna be the final blow. Just like I have just started. And now I just have to be like the one who finished it with just one hit before. Alright, focus, focus. Focus. As I thought again about the joke I had just been given, I smiled fearlessly. I want to taste my blood so badly. Go now, and I will do it after this.

“Crack!” – the wood was split into two parts. It was the joke that helped me so much, but instead of laughing, I was crying. I don’t know, but I cried really much.

I had never known that, the taste of both blood and tears would be that great.

It was really, a nice joke.



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