The Parlor
Out of context: Reply #142
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- locustsloth0
Good morning , my little haven of nothingness. i harken back to the Sunday mornings of my youth, when my father would drag me to church. i actually had some times where i enjoyed it, enjoyed the mythology, the pagentry. But most times i was bored out of my skull.
It's one of the first places where i remember drawing. My mother would give me a small spiral notepad and a pencil and i would draw the cars from Dukes of Hazzard.
Later in life, when my parents would go away, they would leave my half-brothers and sisters in charge. They also loathed church so one of them would go there and grab a program or bulletin or whatever they gave out and bring it back. We had "proof" of "going" to church without the boredom and hassle of actually going.
Once, my mother and father arrived at home and were walking upstairs to the second floor. i emerged from a room, excited about my fun weekend and blurted out "Yeah, and we didn't even go to church, we just got a bulletin!!"
For a short time i believe my half-sibling loathed me as much as they did the church