Rolling balls, falling pins, a million people I don't know. Standing in the back and watching...watching. One thing stood out to me-that noone bowls like me. Everyone seemed content to send the balls flying down the alley at incredible speed or rebound the balls off walls to pick up a diffiult spare-whoopdeedoodah. I saw noone who could toss a 16 pound ball halfway down the alley before it ever touched the floor. Without meaning to. My point? There is no point. The point of today is that four hours in a car is made better with a pillow between my back and the seat (thank you alli's dad) and Jerry Seinfeld keeping me company. The point of today is that a friend surprised me with a Jesus action figure. The point of today is that nobody bowls like me.
The musings, laughter, anguish, and tears of a Stickman living the life drawn for him by the Artist. "I must learn to serve the Artist first, His pen directs my path. He breathes life into these worn-out sticks, And stickmen will see at last."
About Me
- MRJ
- Poor. Student. Firefighter. EMT. Kind. Optimistic. Shy. Dreamer. Fool. Happy.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Bum thing is, I think he's got it.
You're going to rock college.
Post a Comment