Lisa's Time Machine #17: The Parking Lot...AT THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE!! - Sitcoms Online Message Boards

ABlairican Pie · 01-28-2002, 11:27 PM

But more than wanting to absorb Lisa's static cling from her downy sweater, I realized--I wanted to talk. Talk about...
whatever. Like--what was wrong with me? Did I do something wrong in August? Was I just too worried all about nothing? I just wanted assurance. But I had forgotten all that as her presence, her words, her WARMTH lifted me and filled me with peace for that brief moment that felt like forever. If there was a Kingdom of God, I was in its province in that second. I had melted like a Cream-sickle in a convection oven...and then the moment passed on. She then drove off, so I started to yuck it up with the others as a few church members joined us. I joked about whatever, then decided to leave. The inescapable shadows once again descended on me as I pondered my stupid jokes and silly behavior in front of these perfect people. What would they see in a dolt like me? And wasn't it clear to Lisa that I was some incredibly stupid buffoon? I wandered away into the night, thoroughly crushed. I went to my secluded corner behind an empty building a few blocks away from the church, and crawled into my sleeping bag. But sleep would not come to me for hours.
I agaonized to God, WHY DO THEY HATE ME? WHY DID LISA IGNORE ME? WHY DID SHE AND HER FRIENDS THINK I WAS STUPID? I felt convinced that Lisa was just being patronizing about my poetry being "beautiful" and that her hug was just a hollow, empty gesture that had become a useless trademark in Charismatic/Pentecostal churches. I cried for hours before I dried my tears with the thought, I'm not going to take this--whatever I want to do with my music, my art, my writing, I am going to be REAL. I am going to be painfully honest, and honestly painful. None of this cutesy crap that glutted Christian music. Though I felt a little better about my new resolve, nothing could take away the gnawing sense of hopelessness about how Lisa must have felt about me.

F*O*L 1988 · 01-29-2002, 08:00 PM

OOOOOOOOOOOOO Keep goin! LOL

01-29-2002, 08:00 PM	#2
FOL 1988 Pat the Bat Frequent Poster Join Date: Jan 20, 2002 Location: Pennsylvania Posts: 434	OOOOOOOOOOOOO Keep goin! LOL
	__________________ I Love Pat Burrell!

01-28-2002, 11:27 PM	#1
ABlairican Pie Member Forum Superstar Join Date: Dec 12, 2001 Location: Living where cats reign more Supreme than a pizza. Posts: 31,620	Lisa's Time Machine #17: The Parking Lot...AT THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE!! But more than wanting to absorb Lisa's static cling from her downy sweater, I realized--I wanted to talk. Talk about... whatever. Like--what was wrong with me? Did I do something wrong in August? Was I just too worried all about nothing? I just wanted assurance. But I had forgotten all that as her presence, her words, her WARMTH lifted me and filled me with peace for that brief moment that felt like forever. If there was a Kingdom of God, I was in its province in that second. I had melted like a Cream-sickle in a convection oven...and then the moment passed on. She then drove off, so I started to yuck it up with the others as a few church members joined us. I joked about whatever, then decided to leave. The inescapable shadows once again descended on me as I pondered my stupid jokes and silly behavior in front of these perfect people. What would they see in a dolt like me? And wasn't it clear to Lisa that I was some incredibly stupid buffoon? I wandered away into the night, thoroughly crushed. I went to my secluded corner behind an empty building a few blocks away from the church, and crawled into my sleeping bag. But sleep would not come to me for hours. I agaonized to God, WHY DO THEY HATE ME? WHY DID LISA IGNORE ME? WHY DID SHE AND HER FRIENDS THINK I WAS STUPID? I felt convinced that Lisa was just being patronizing about my poetry being "beautiful" and that her hug was just a hollow, empty gesture that had become a useless trademark in Charismatic/Pentecostal churches. I cried for hours before I dried my tears with the thought, I'm not going to take this--whatever I want to do with my music, my art, my writing, I am going to be REAL. I am going to be painfully honest, and honestly painful. None of this cutesy crap that glutted Christian music. Though I felt a little better about my new resolve, nothing could take away the gnawing sense of hopelessness about how Lisa must have felt about me.