every god has her day -- mary:divine:god

[no ones muse]

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<center>Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, don't swallow. And while you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off. He's a tight-ass. He's a sadist. He's an absentee landlord. Worship that? Never.</center>

<center>Quote from The Devils Advocate</center>

<center> Everything was true, but the He part.</center>

[no ones muse]

Sine the beginning of time (and I was there, since I created it! Heh) I've watched over those that I molded from my own skin. I've played the voyeur to their doings, not interfering much. Oh, well, there was that specific time with Adam and Eve, though I blame the majority of that on Saint.

I've seen many things and sometimes these things make me weep. Such as the supposive wars that were spread like wildfire in the name of God. The crusades they called them. I'm not much one for war, and was appalled by such a drastic decision and almost hurt that they used the excuse of me to gain territory. Those bibles they placed in all those hands weren't what these people wanted, and never would I press so harshly to make them believe.

Afterall, a good amount of what they wrote in that thing is mostly fiction. I believe the man who wrote it had found himself a delightful peyote plant. And he also decided it would be just of him to steal from the Pagans and combine his images with their folklore. Pity, that. It's why I was written as a man, and not a woman.

Regaurdless, I never wished for battle in the name of the "Lord". In fact, Joan of Arc began to tell people that I whispered to her in her sleep. If only she would have known that that was not me, but either Saint or one of his little entourage. I did feel for that girl, as they burned her alive on a stake deciding that she was a witch.

Saint will tell you plenty of horrible things about me, and avoid most of the things he has done in conversation. He's mostly like a spoiled child, in all reality. And he has been changing over the past few weeks, and I do believe it is caused over ... Well, I won't say.

Saint likes to make me look like the "bad guy" nowadays. I believe it's becoming a trend. Which is tiring in it's own amount, and yet I will just sit there and smile and nod, somewhat agreeing. It seems to tick him off more when I do such things rather than get riled up.

In all reality, niether I nor Saint are horrible, sadistic characters. We each have our flaws (and I use that loosely, because they are not flaws at all) and our downfalls. We are both bad mouthed by the very people we protect and offer salvation too. There are groups that will make Saint look like such a fool in their ridiculous worshippings of a horned man with a goat face. And there are others that ridicule the faith in my arms due to the selfishness of a priest or the sexual wrongness of a pastor creeping his hands up a choir boys leg. It's quite sickening, and yet I can not step down to fix it.

It's not the way I work.

I watch and listen, but I do not tempt. I'm there to offer my guidance, though not through what I can give you in return for your love. It's the rule of faith, and you do not need to be in the skylights of a church to give me that. No, you can give me it all just by simply walking down the sidewalk, or tucking yourself into bed.

See, there are plenty of misconceptions about me and my counterpart, Saint.

And just because you may not touch, smell or see me, does not mean I am not there.

Now, I think I shall go buy a new hat.

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