Sense of humor

People with strange sense of humor give me shivers. Those who say something, something strange, weird, then look into your eyes and laugh at what they said. Kind of inviting you to laugh together, enjoy what was said and share the moment. Weird.

It feels like they exist in a different space, where normal rules don’t apply, almost daring you to join or to step back quickly. Sometimes I wonder if they really find it funny or if it's just a way they see things. Maybe they don’t know what’s funny, and they just laugh to test, was this funny? It leaves me unsettled, caught between curiosity, discomfort, amazement and a quiet urge to escape.

There’s something almost primal about that reaction, like they’re playing with the unspoken rules of social interaction, twisting expectations just enough to create a spark of discomfort.

It’s not just humor, it’s a challenge wrapped in a joke. And in that challenge, there’s a strange kind of honesty, too. They reveal parts of themselves that most people keep hidden, daring you to see it or to turn away. Sometimes, I catch myself wanting to meet that gaze and accept the strange invitation, even if it means stepping into unfamiliar territory.