Do you know what freedom feels like? Freedom is the chance to run barefoot through town, dropping the F-bomb whenever I feel like it. Freedom is serving Campbell’s at the soup kitchen instead of making it myself. Freedom is reading any book other than the Bible. Freedom is wearing jeans. JEANS. And T-shirts. Hell, freedom is wearing tank tops that barely cover my naughty parts. For the first time in my life, I’m free.
I thought long and hard about my decision to put my life with Christ on hold. I’m sure it’s not a choice that God would be proud of, and I may one day regret it, but that day is not today. Last week, as I sat in the soup kitchen, horrified that I had somehow jinxed the carnival, I realized that I was stuck. My days consisted of prayer and cooking, and I was slowly losing my sanity. I don’t know if this break will go on for the rest of the week or the rest of my life, but I know that I need to walk on a new path for a while.
My first step in this new path? Going out on a date. With a clown. That’s right, a clown. It was the first date I had ever been on, and it was wonderful. He rode into the soup kitchen on a unicycle and stole my heart. He’s not the type that I would immediately bring home to my mother, but he makes me feel alive. Clowns don’t make much money, and neither do recently-unemployed nuns (I still volunteer at the soup kitchen), so we snuck into the fair after closing for our first date. We ate leftover pickled eggs and corn dogs, with some cotton candy for dessert. We ate in the bumper cars, some of which were inhabited by other clowns. Brian Bunderson rolled through the carnival a few times as though he were lost, and he acted like he had no limbs. All four were clearly intact, but I wasn’t concerned about his apparent insanity. I was preoccupied by my date. It wasn’t much, but it was perfect.
I thought long and hard about my decision to put my life with Christ on hold. I’m sure it’s not a choice that God would be proud of, and I may one day regret it, but that day is not today. Last week, as I sat in the soup kitchen, horrified that I had somehow jinxed the carnival, I realized that I was stuck. My days consisted of prayer and cooking, and I was slowly losing my sanity. I don’t know if this break will go on for the rest of the week or the rest of my life, but I know that I need to walk on a new path for a while.
My first step in this new path? Going out on a date. With a clown. That’s right, a clown. It was the first date I had ever been on, and it was wonderful. He rode into the soup kitchen on a unicycle and stole my heart. He’s not the type that I would immediately bring home to my mother, but he makes me feel alive. Clowns don’t make much money, and neither do recently-unemployed nuns (I still volunteer at the soup kitchen), so we snuck into the fair after closing for our first date. We ate leftover pickled eggs and corn dogs, with some cotton candy for dessert. We ate in the bumper cars, some of which were inhabited by other clowns. Brian Bunderson rolled through the carnival a few times as though he were lost, and he acted like he had no limbs. All four were clearly intact, but I wasn’t concerned about his apparent insanity. I was preoccupied by my date. It wasn’t much, but it was perfect.
The streets were empty today. Everyone is at the carnival except for a few oddballs. There was a clown on a unicycle. The clown kept trying to put the woman on his shoulders and ride the unicycle but they kept falling down. They didn't seem to mind too. They just laughed and tried again.
ReplyDeleteNext to me, I see a promiscuous looking woman flirting with a man dressed as a clown. Why is she not worried about the lose of my jewelry?
ReplyDeleteA nun ran about in the chaos caused by the fire, screaming that she was the cause and that she should repent. Ceilí stopped her momentarily, grabbing the nun by the arm. She began questioning the nun about the fiasco, which only lasted until Ceilí cursed once. The nun wrenched free, screaming of the approach of the devil and hellfire.
ReplyDeleteThen, right in the center of all the flames and madness was a disappointed-looking nun, eyeing me. She must've been the only person who saw what I did. She wasn't upset, she wasn't angry, she was just staring at me with sad-eyes. I felt a fleeting tinge of remorse, and strangely, I never did (and I still don't) have any fright that she may try to track me down or turn me in and send me to jail. She seems to me like one of those religious messages the universe was sending my way. Like the priest I saw a few moments prior to killing Leland, the nun came after and she kept looking at me, unflinching. It felt like our eyes locked for hours though it was likely about five seconds. I turned my back to the nun and the flames and went back to watershed heights where I am writing these words right now.
ReplyDeleteI walked up to a nun, thinking that out of everybody here she would be the one to tel me the truth. "What happened?" I asked.
ReplyDelete"Well the food cart guy came back from somewhere screaming his head off about some dirty thief, and then he noticed that the rest of his chicken had been stolen while he was away. He flew into a rage and pulled out some dynamite from his beard, and exploded the cart! I woud be scared if I were that original thief, the vendor started shouting all these death threats about him.
Oh shiiiit, I thought. Gotta go.
But not before I noticed the nun put her arm around a clown. A clown? I thought nuns didn't date...this place really is changing people. Maybe she wasn't so trustworthy after all.