iT's geTtiNg clOser nOw

All those who heard the theme song for Jaws during today's Theo class, raise your hands!

I am officially creeped out. And it takes a very tenacious creepy creep to do that to me. At the start, I decided to treat the class as my, er, path to enlightenment. After all, I practically have a one-way ticket to hell. And instead of a fuzzy bearded guy who takes care of stray dogs and drinks Orange Juice every morning, I get Mr. Fire-and-Brimstone.

Oh, don't get me wrong. He makes sense. He's logically right (and I just know that will piss him off) most of the time. It's just that he's so... schizo. Really. I tell you, if you so much as hint at Christ doing human things like, say, shitting, he'll descend upon you and whack you senseless... But not before giving you a Faust-ish performance, complete with gritting teeth, corded necks and that hook nose of his that I used to love. (Now, I'm afraid he'll just use it as a weapon.) God, I am so scared.

And yes, I was talking to the dude upstairs when I said that.

On to happier matters:

In Aesthetics class, we were given this blank magazine for us to do what we please. I almost had an orgasm on site. Maaan. The utter blankness of the paper. Iba. Iba. So the whole class is collaborating in this project.

And it's gonna be freaking sent to Paris! Pareeeeez!!!

Pero hanggang Friday lang. As in it has to be finished by Friday.

Tangina, ibaaaa.

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To add to my state of sin, I skipped the YFC GA. Bakit kamo? Kasi they're so happy. People, before you retort that I am abnormally happy most of the time, I do get angsty teen I-wanna-kill-myself moments. Usually ten minutes after my happy binges. But these religious org people thingies... Wah.

I used to have an org like that. And it killed me. I don't like Church. I know it's a bad thing (and I can see my Theo professor writhing on the floor with rage now) but that's what I feel. I love God and all that but I love him in my own way. And I know that wrong. Hell, aforementioned professor drilled that notion to us many times.

It's sad that I have to fashion who God is into whatever I want him to be. Pero that's what I believe in. Sheesh puh-lease, leave me alone with my notions of God handing me a book on Elizabeth Bathory because he wants to widen my horizons, a Guy who hugs me because He freaking omnipotently knows I need it.

I don't wanna hurt any YFCers and other do-gooders out there. Pero if I rocked your sensibilities, sorry. I'm a selfish bitch and I'm having the time of my life reveling in that fact.

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I'm tired. And I want to sleep. But my Muse calls and I must go to him.

If you must know, my Muse currently has lots of eyeliner on and a wet peasant shirt. Rawr.