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Date Posted: 21:51:40 10/24/01 Wed
Author: sober
Subject: my little story

When you throw an apple, it falls. When a young girl throws everything, she falls. Simple. So goes the story of the one known as Lisa Lee.

Lisa Lee knew not of anything but. And Lisa Lee pretended to hate carbonated beverages... but we all knew that was only an excuse to wear socks with sandals. Not to mention preach the "bohemian eay of living" as she so cleverly put it. And I promise you that right below the nape of her neck (if you can locate it) was a small label reading:

Add culture, close eyes, and shake. Make sure to not overflow, or internal and external dammage will result.

No one reads the warnings just right. In order to fully digest the small print a tall glass of water is needed, (not short mind you) followed by saltines and a bowl of pineapples and milk. Only then can one fully understand. Lisa Lee neglected the pineapples. Alas.

So, one day, Lisa Lee decided the only way to grow into herself was to kill the growing of her hair. After painfully pulling strand by strand, Lisa Lee figured the next best option was to cut her hair. And so she did. Again. And again... for good measure.

Now, let me tell you, did Lisa Lee go crazy afterwards. The falling of her hair was followed swiftly by her good humor and sensibility. And Lisa Lee became almost scary to the point that mothers hid their children, big and small. Through that vibrating laugh and stick-on smile (not to mention peel-off eyes) I knew. And she knew I knew. Lisa Lee cut herself off of herself and off of me and off of the very pages of her sobriety. So each day was played in front of a mirror (we held hair brushes as microphones) and fiction was the only section in our library. To make our peace, that is.

Then after all those daily games of ours, Lisa Lee finally faded away. She did attempt to smash her fist into the green wall... and any wall. To display her newfound strength that came as a complimentary gift with her newfound friends. But she was shallow, the wall was firm. The result was a laughing wall and a crying Lisa Lee. And as for her newfound glory... well they sold out anyway.

Turn around, and you just might see Lisa Lee. With her hands open and a feeble smile (still a stick-on, I assure you). And even though you so desire, your goodwill keeps you from sneering, and even laughing. So you calmly place your head out the window and say "Need a lift?"

And she always does.

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Replies:

so wow, i liked your story. i like. -- jess-lane, 13:14:58 10/28/01 Sun