Deeply Shallow

People often mistake a sense of humour for a sign of a fragile yet tortured and defensive intellect, an accent to a deep ocean of neuroses and twisted streams of conflict that could unravel at any minute.

I consider myself a deeply, profoundly shallow human being.

It's also highly possible that humour is a sign of a deeply shallow human being. Like if you were an archaeologist, digging to find some mystery bellow the surface, and just when you were about to break through to that undiscovered cavern, there was another level of top soil, and after a while you're in a massive hole, staring at layer after layer of top soil. Or if you found the exact same piece of Roman pottery, in the exact same place, and decided that someone in the past had clearly been producing replica pottery shards just to fuck with you.

Or not, like whatevs.