during the sermon you breathe in the sunday air and let it fill your sunday lungs, surpressing a cough. you sit up straight and fold your sunday hands. and when it is over, you heave your sunday sigh. and off to the bathroom you go, to fix your sunday mask.

you look into the mirror and then take out your sunday bag. eyeliner, lipstick, compressed powder and god. you line those pretty sunday eyes and revive those thin sunday lips. a dash of powder to conceal the cracks. and then you apply a touch of god to those pale cheeks, so it appears as though you are alive.

and out you walk, confidant with your sunday stride and you take a look around.

(it's funny how something which spawned in hell believes so wholeheartedly that it is going to ever see heaven.

you say you know you're not a good christian yet you preach about what one should be. you're a hypocrite, you know that? and jesus hates hypocrites. )