WHAT ARE YOU LIKE?

never had the passion for church.

in the beginning it was all about coercion. me wanting to slug on the bed till mid-afternoon on a sunday, my mother having other ideas, mostly involving a walis to rearrange my body parts until i relent.

and then there was "undoing", with me smiling from ear to ear, a balloon in one hand and dirty popcorn in the other. riding on the wave of my mother's guilt always made me feel better about church. there was always something to look forward to: candy floss, ice cream, ice scramble, toys, what have you.

i went to a private catholic school run by jesuits. i suppose it should have mattered that we were being trained to be "men and women for others", that our motto was "for the greater glory of God", that we were, supposedly, "fortes in fide" or "strong in faith".

nope.

going to a chrismas fund drive meant planning what you were going to wear. which watch, which pair of loafers or trainers, which brand shirt, which this and that. i suppose the less-fortunate knew nothing about brands. to them, a shirt was a shirt, and your new pair of tretorns were just another pair of trainers. but it didn't matter to my classmates, those men and women for others who were doing what they were doing for the greater glory of God because they were strong in faith.

things haven't changed much now that i'm older. i still have my qualms about religion. i suppose all those beatings, balloons and popcorn haven't done anything for my spiritual self (if anyone could call it that).

i am searching for i don't know what.

i am tired.

they say that what i believe in is NOT ENOUGH. but it is, to me. for the time being, at least.

i did this.

i did that.

still not enough.

my frienster profile says that i have designs on social-cleansing; that i would like to catapult religious fanatics to the sun.

it's all true.

beware of me.