Ever since I can remember, I’ve always been “The Funny Guy”. Every word I say seems to amuse people, as if they’re an audience and I’m a jester who took a pie to the face. But most of the time, I’m not trying to be funny. I’m just saying what’s on my mind.
People often mistake my sincerity for humor. I try to be as honest with people as I can. When a classmate asked me if we were friends, I just said, “No”. It’s not that I didn’t like the person, but we’ve only spoken once before. She paused, mouth wide open, and suddenly burst out laughing. Her friends laughed too. Maybe they’re not used to rejection and didn’t know how to react, or maybe I said something a certain way. Whatever I did, it was somehow hilarious. It felt like I was the only one in the room who didn’t get the joke.
Even my teachers can’t tell when I’m being serious. They say things like, “Stop fooling around” “Act your age”. They have some warped view that I’m immature. But really, I have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously.