The “Which F*cked Up Tragic-Love-Cliche is ioHann Suffering From?” Test

July 22nd, 2007 by iohann

OBJECTIVE:      To find out about ioHann’s lovelife.

I. TRUE OR FALSE: The Cliche Category

1. _______ioHann got hurt a number of times before causing him to push anyone who wants to be part of his life, afraid of getting hurt again.

2._______ioHann got hurt too many times before, he become numb, unable to love

anyone anymore.

3._______ioHann got hurt ten times more than he was ever happy in relationships,

thus never truly having a positive self-developing relationship, thus anticipating the

worst in every potential relationship, thus not wanting to get into a relationship at all.

4._______ ioHann broke down after sacrificing too much for a girl when he finally

realized it was never worth it.

5._______ ioHann got traumatized of how girls had hurt him, caused him psychological disorders, self-distructive tendencies, and alot of major issues, which he never recovered from.

6._______ioHann got hurt / unreciprocated / rejected by the girl he truly wants, thus subconciously hurting all the girls who come to love him.

II. TRUE OR FALSE: The Psychological Category

1._______ioHann suffers from an Emotional form of Masochism which leads him to fall in love with someone (or appear to) then allow the relationship to a downfall just to indulge in the pain because it fires him up to be artistically productive.

2._______ioHann actually has an Introvertive Rage disorder which causes him to hold

immense amot of grudges and anger inside him, usually caused by emotional trauma

and pain, with the ability not to manifest it at all. Although this immense amount of

rage does manifest in physical and emotional Masochism , it never gets relieved.

3._______ioHann doesnt believe in "falling in love" or that Love is an uncontrollable

surge of emotion that just happens to a person, because a girl he once loved used

that exact idea to claim that her falling for another guy wasnt her fault.

4._______ioHann claims that he has never truly fallen in love becuase the mere

thought of "love" floods his mind with agonizing memories.

5._______the only reason ioHann lasted for a long time in any of his relationships in

the past is because he wanted to test how much he can take; how far he can go

trying to be the "ideal" boyfriend to the girl.

6._______ioHann quickly reciprocates (or appears to reciprocate) the feelings of girls who (claim to) fall in love with him hoping that he *might* truly fall in love th
is time, which never proved to really happen… ever.

III. TRUE OR FALSE:  The Selfish Bastard Category:

1._______ioHann’s emotions is actually pathetically shallow and highly almost always

directly proportional to a girl’s physical attributes. he will most likely claim to be feeling "real" love and be more willing to make sacrifices to a girl who fits his physical fetish.

2._______ioHann has developed a subconcious kind of paranoia in getting in

relationships due to his feeling of "being used" by these girls to vent out their selfish

emotions, to feel accepted amidst their selfish issues, to have a shock absorber for

their selfish outbursts, to have someone to pity them and sympathize more than their normal friends would.

3._______ioHann hates the idea of being a Boyfriend when most girls he encounters

expect him to be psychic, know what they want all the time, and understand them.

4._______ioHann likes complicated girls and girls with issues, they always interest him, but he rejects them in the end when he realizes that he cant afford to be the

constantly adjusting variable in the relationship. 5._______ioHann has been manipulated into relationships so many times, he developed a skill of manipulating situations / people to get out of relationships.

6._______ioHann cynicism is more dangerous and solid than any of his psychological

issues. He pretends to *hope* for a real constructive and self-developing relationship

that would make him a better person, but is convinced that it doesnt exist. Voicing out his *hopes* just makes him seem like he’s not giving up, but in reality he really doesnt care.

[BONUS QUESTIONS for extra points]. TRUE OR FALSE: The Impotent Bastard

1._______ioHann has an uncanny skill of extracting a girl of her most intimate secrets, usually of sexual nature. He claims to do it for fun, but in reality it’s his form of Power tripping and being in Marx’s upper hand.

2._______ioHann claims that he would willingly provide physical / sexual "favors" to

anyone he considers a "close friend" of the opposite sex rather than a one night stand with a hot stranger, as long as they ask of it. 

3._______The statement in Number 2 may pose him to be either "open minded" or

"perverted", but in reality it’s another one of his power-struggle/tripping /

ethnomethodogical social experiments on people, because a "friend" who would

actually ask for such would be a psychologically interesting norm-breaker.

4._______ioHann’s usually uses his "skills" (SEE #1) on conservative-type girls, getting them to confess their naughty little secrets, not for his own fantasies, but usually to constantly prove Freudian theories of the "id".

5._______at a certain level of intimacy with ioHann, he would claim that he’s

"impotent" and talk about how tragic it is, and that he misses the good old

testosterone-driven days. It is a sign that he no longer is interested on "extracting" or conducting psycho-sexual / power tripping / marxist / freudian experiments on you.

6._______Poetry seduces ioHann more than anything else.  But he claims only very

few could write good enough to have such an effect on him, and when it does, it lasts for a loooooooong time.

Quiver

March 26th, 2007 by iohann

Let your hands possess mine

Through my blood like wine

Let your spirit linger

To the tip of my finger

Sense every breath

Of my Lucid virility

Till I shiver

then your turn to quiver

No, im not tired.

January 25th, 2007 by iohann

"it’s not you… it’s me" –one of the most f*cked up cliche break up lines. i hate cliches.

that’s why you never heard me say it.

There is a reason why things become cliches.  It only shows that it is a constantly reoccuring reality.  As much as i want to deviate from being subjected to constantly reoccuring realities, it is inevitable.

…i’m probably just caught in the spiral of death.

i’m tired of trying to make myself feel things i just don’t.
i’m tired of trying to fit in the social norm of happiness, because i just don’t.
i’m tired of wanting to be able to feel.
i’m tired of wanting to love, coz i just can’t.
i’m tired of wanting to see myself fall in love, because i end up forcing myself to, because society says love is good and love equates happiness, because society makes me believe that i am not truly happy if i’m not in love, or that i can be happier when i feel love….

because i don’t.
i don’t fall in love.
i don’t feel love.
i don’t feel.
i’m a ghost.
i’m numb.

and i know it too much that i have been fighting this numbness for years and just ended up hurting, and hurting, and hurting some more, and it wont stop until i defy what society says and accept the fact that i am numb.

i’m tired of apologizing because of this numbness.
i’m tired of sounding like i don’t have a choice
or i can’t do anything about it.
you know i have a choice, and you probably know that i’ve made my decision.
i’m tired of what-ifs, and what-could-have’s
im tired of saving memories in my inbox pretending that they mean something to me
i’m tired of writing songs about the people who hurt me, and the peole i hurt
i’m tired of hating myself
hating myself so much
i’m tired of mind games
im tired of manipulating people
i’m tired of getting manupilated
i’m tired of waiting for something special to happen
i’m tired of trying to be spontaneous
i’m tired of wanting to be spontaneous
i’m tired of being a masochist
i’m tired of explaining to people that i’m not suicidal and i’m not going to kill myself
i’m tired of fantasizing about what my funeral would look like

i’m tired of feeling tired of this bullshit.

…but i’m not tired of living.
hell no i ain’t tired of living.
give me more of this bullshit.

Wraith of Numbness

January 25th, 2007 by iohann

I am a ghost

Forsaken abandoned

I am a host

Of void and oblivion

Nonexistent

Of any emotion

A wraith
In this
time continuum

I am weary

For  someone to blame

I am dreary
It is never same

Eyes are teary

in the light of shame
Ever so lonely

it was all a game

touch me not

for you will disturb
me
love me not

for I am unworthy

The Little Squirrel

May 7th, 2006 by iohann

Hey guys, I’ve been working in
this concept, it’s nothing new, but check this out. After teaching English to Korean kids for 4.5
months and getting exposed to a lot of children’s stories, they all got mixed
up with my disturbed post-modern post-structural processing of ideas, and
here’s what I came up with. By the way,
this is NOT for any academic purpose or
anything
, it’s just one of my
personal pastimes
and I’d love you’re help on it, if you are into these
kind of things (specifically if you are a deconstructionist like me).

 

NOTE:  THIS CONCEPT MAY NOT BE FIT
OR AGREED UPON BY SOME PEOPLE.

YOU
DON’T HAVE TO READ THIS IF YOU FIND YOURSELF UNINTERESTED.

 

OBJECTIVES:

 

basically, it should be in a form
of a story for children, so the vocabulary must be as simple as possible. I was hoping at least grade 2 level, but I
think some parts of the story would really need a little more complicated words
for intricate details. Well this is the
first part I’ll need help on: HELP #1: SIMPLIFICATION

since it is in the form of
children’s stories, I’m really planning on making it appear as it – I’m imagining a storybook with big texts and
illustrations per page.

 

Another aim of this story is to
put as much underlying and subliminal issues of intra/interpersonal, social,
psychological, political, and any other bullsh*t we could associate to, in each
character and event of the story. That’s
why I’m gonna need help on this: HELP #2: ANALYSIS. Bias it on every idealism you know, take
every approach you can (Marxist, Feminist, Religious, Social, psychological,
socio-psychological, Freudian <my personal fav>, Political, post-modern,
formalist, structural, stylistic, etc etc) Let’s try to extract every single meaning semantically, semiotically,
and stylistically as much as we can. There’s a lot of fun doing that (^_^)

 

MODIFICATIONS:

 

Formalistically, I had planned to
use a main character classified as a WTF
animal
, (a.k.a. “what the f*ck!?” animal) meaning an animal that nobody
really knows, probably a rare specie only found in the most unknown parts of
the earth, or some animal you only heard in Discovery channel or Animal
Planet. Preferably something cute, that why I thought of the rodent
class, in my draft I chose a ‘little squirrel’. See one of my main objectives is to make the main character lovable by the readers, thus invoking
more extreme pathos to the readers once he gets f*cked (not literally, you’ll
know what I mean when you read the story).

Something like when people read
the story, “There once was a little Skwama. What
the f*ck is a Skwama!?
” thus
fulfilling the formalist goal, to keep the reader wondering, or thinking,
asking around, or even researching on what
the hell is a Skwama
. (I have no
idea what a Skwama is, its just an example) But to keep the image of cute and
lovable
for the main character, it
must be shown either in description, or illustration. Maybe you could come up
with something? Whether it is a real existing rare unknown animal with a catchy
WTF name, or (as sir David Manaois suggested) just make a fictional one with a
catchy name, and never reveal that it is fictional thus leaving the readers
either deceived or searching for truth in vain. HELP
#3: our WTF Animal
.

 

The story I wrote is just a draft,
i really would appreciate suggestions, additions, modifications, and the likes
that would furthers enhance the story on our objective number 2 (maximizing the
associative issues). But I guess you
probably get the picture of this whole concept I’m talking about? A friend said that my Objective number 3 is
to make sure I cause nightmares to the children who read it. But I think a better objective, or challenge,
it to make the story appear so nice,
cute, lovable and great for children, given that the adults who might get a
copy of it do not read the ending yet. It must look so much like a simple nice child’s story, when in fact it
would probably be messing with the little kid’s head (evil laugh). But regardless of that, the aim of this
concept is basically post-structural in nature. And for me, integrating the sickest most profound issues into the
simplest children’s story is an art
in itself.

 

Again I am calling only to those
who are into these stuff, people who like analyzing, overanalyzing, and view
such cognitive processes as a pastime or leisure, people who love to
deconstruct, and those who do this for a living.

 

After this, maybe I’ll tell u
about the contingency  plan I am working
on of how to deconstruct PBB (Pinoy Big Brother) and be immortalized by it (evil laugh). But first I’ll have to pass the auditions.

 

–ioHann

09192160009

iohann@radio.fm

 

 

 

The Little Squirrel

By ioHann Garcia

 

There
once was a little squirrel got who bored in the woods, so he decided to live in
the city.  He walked for days until he
reached that place of which only few animals have ever returned from. There he experienced new things and wonders
that were never in the woods.

From
the small hole of a fruit store where he stayed, a man dropped a small gadget that
fell right by the squirrel’s hole. The
gadget had a small light that shone when you pressed it.  Discovering this, the squirrel was in awe and
amazement.

He
remembered his little sister in the woods.  She always got scared at night when the owls
hoot, she was always scared of the dark.

Then
he realized why he had gone to the city. He had a purpose, and it was to find that little gadget that will end
his sister’s scary nights, to bring home that special shining light that will
make his little sister happy and sleep soundly.

The
next day he decided to go back to the woods and share what he had seen and done
in the new world where he had gone to. But most importantly, he had to bring back the special gift for his
beloved sister.  He carried the little gadget
all the way to the woods. It was heavy,
and very difficult to carry, but all he could think of was his little
sister.

"I’m
doing this for her and nothing can stop me". He traveled without stop for thee days until
he did not have an ounce of strength left. He felt very tired and fell asleep.

When
the little squirrel woke up, he found himself deep in the woods. My, was he surprised when he realized his gadget
was gone! He searched and searched for a
whole day, but deep in the woods only grew darker and scarier.  Giving
up hope, the little squirrel sadly decided to go home to his sister.

When
he got to his old tree hole, he yelled "I’m home".  Nothing but silence echoed his cry.

"Where
is my sister?" he wondered to himself.

"If
you’re looking for your little sister, I’m afraid I must cry," an old weathered
owl hooted deeply from above.

"And
why will you cry, old owl, I might ask?" said the little squirrel with as
his eyebrows met.

"The
day you left your sister alone, the boa came along the second you were gone.  He crushed your sister until she couldn’t move
and swallowed her every inch until she was no more," the old owl said as
she burst in tears.

The
little squirrel fell on his knees hearing the old owl’s story. And then he cried, and cried, until he fell
asleep.

“Wake
up, squirrel! Quickly, we must see!” cried the newt as he woke the little
squirrel.

“What is going on? I am too sad to see” whispered the little
squirrel still drying his tears.

“All
the animals are gathered in the cove to see what Mighty Lion had taken from the
sky!”

The
Little Squirrel could that all the animals were rushing from left and right
towards the cove where Mighty Lion stood. He followed the newt along with the crowd of animals.

When
the newt and the little squirrel arrived at the cove, the afternoon sun had
already set. They were all the way at
the back because there were so many animals.

“We
humbly request, Mighty Lion, that you show us this treasure from the sky!” said
a monkey swinging on a tree.

“Behold,
all creatures of this land, I have taken a star from the sky!” roared Mighty
Lion for all the animals to hear. And
with a firm press of his paw on the rock, a small but bright light shone from
beneath.

“Amazing!” cried the animals in awe.

“Truly
you are most powerful, Mighty Lion, to have plucked a star from the great big
sky!” said the monkey with a respectful bow.

Instantly,
the little squirrel knew what they were seeing. The prized treasure under Mighty Lion’s paw was indeed the little gadget
of light that the little squirrel had lost — the little gadget of light that
he carried with all his might on his back for three days, the little gadget of
light he had taken care of just for his little sister.

“That’s
not a star!” cried the little squirrel all the way from the back.

All
the animals quickly turned to him in shock.

“And
who might you be, little pest, to deny me, the Mighty Lion!” roared Mighty Lion
angrily.

“I
have traveled into the city where I found that which you hold in your paw. I have brought it back for my sister, but it
disappeared when I fell asleep in the woods.” Said the little squirrel in a
small voice.

“What
is a city?” asked the newt.

“I
don’t know,” said the monkey.

“Liar!”
screamed Mighty Lion, “you dare steal my glory for yourself?”

“You
are too small to even carry a magnificent star!” yelled the monkey.

“Liar!
Liar!” chanted the mob of animals.

“I
am telling the truth! I have brought
that star here in the woods so my little sister will not cry anymore at night
when she is scared of the dark.” Pleaded
the little squirrel.

“So
now you say it is a star, you little imbecile! You do not even have a brain!” Roared the angry lion.

“Where
is this sister you say? We do not see
your sister!” said the monkey which brought the mob of animals in laughter.

“But…”
the little squirrel choked when he remembered the sad fate of his little
sister.

“He’s
guilty! Look at his face! He is nothing but a liar who wants to steal the glory
of our Mighty Lion!” announced the
monkey while he swung on the vines toward the little squirrel.

“Kill
him! Kill him!” roared the crowd, when Mighty Lion suddenly gave out a mighty
roar and silenced them.

“You
are lower than dust to even think of denying me! Leave this place and never return, you are
nothing but a pest in my kingdom!” said
the lion as all the animals yelled curses and insults.

The
little squirrel froze in fear and could not breathe as he watched the
threatening eyes of every single animal in the cove.

THUD! A big rock hit his cheek, and quickly brought
him back to his senses as warm blood flowed out. He turned away and ran with all his might to
the deepest and darkest part of the woods, hoping that he would disappear.

The
little squirrel could not cry out in fear, but big painful rolls of tears
flowed down his eyes, mixed with the blood on his cheek and down to the black
soil of the murkiest part of the forest. He did not stop running, until suddenly…

The
little squirrel felt he was swiftly lifted up the air by something, although he
could barely see in the dark, then quickly smashed into the ground. Then he felt his whole world pressing against
him. He could not breathe. He tried to scream, or cry, but instead a strong
gasp of air was pushed out of him. His
bones were starting to crack, and he was feeling warm and very cold at the same
time. The pain and agony was too much to
describe or even think of. Then the
excruciating unbearable pain started to turn into numbness as he felt sliding
in a warm and sticky tunnel. And then it
was quiet.

Somehow,
the little squirrel’s love for his little sister had formed a bond between
them. It was a powerful bond that
enabled him to sense or know when the presence of his beloved sister is
close. Now wonder that by the time the
little squirrel had returned to the woods, his special sense for his sister was
never present… which was later on explained by the old owl by their tree.

But
at that very moment, with the little consciousness left of the little squirrel
in an unknown tight and sticky place, something brushed on his broken
body. And right there, he knew… he was
with his little sister.

 

 

Ako si J10

May 7th, 2006 by iohann

i submitted this story for my FIL21 requirement, inspired by a similar story written by my sister entitled "Ako si Jolibee". i got a 1.25 (^_^)

 

Ako si J10. Hindi po “Jio” ha, “Jey-ten” po ang basa sa
pangalan ko. Sampung taong gulang po ako
at nasa ikaapat na baitang. Siguro po ay
nagtataka kayo kung bakit kakaiba ang pangalan ko. ‘Wag niyo na po sanang itanong ng masyado sa
akin kung bakit, kasi yun na po ang nasa besertipikey ko (birth
certificate). Basta sabi po ng mga
magulang ko “special” daw ako. Bunso po ako sa sampung magkakapatid sa aming
masayang pamilya. 

 

Si kuya Jimboy and
panganay sa’min na masaya sa kompyuter. Nagtatrabaho na siya sa lugar na maraming maraming kompyuter. 

 

Si
kuya Jovito naman (“hobito” po ang basa) ay kakatapos palang ng kolehiyo at
ngayon ay naghahanap na ng trabaho. Masaya siya dahil kay ate Lita, ang masayang girlpren niya. Si ate Lita ay medyo malusog, ngunit maputi
at makinis naman ang balat. Madalas nga
po ay naririnig kong tinatawag siya ng kanyang mga kaibigan na “Chabilita”,
pero mahal na mahal pa rin siya ni kuya Jovi. 

 

Si
ate Jolenna, o ate “Jolens” naman po ang pangatlo. Mahilig po siya sa isports. Ang pinaka paborito niya na isports ay ang
boksing. Idol niya po si Manny Pacman. Sabi
sakin ni kuya Jovi na nung bata pa raw si ate Jolens ay mahilig na po siya
makipag-away. Hindi pumapayag sina itay
at inay na manood siya ng boksing sa TV, kaya hindi siya masyadong masaya. Ayaw man nila inay at itay ay patuloy pa rin
siyang nagpapraktis sa aming bakuran. Sira na nga po ang puno ng saging namin eh. 

 

Ang
pang-apat naman at pang-lima sa amin ay kambal. Si kuya Jolimak, o “Jopak”, at si kuya Jomarko, na mas kilalang si
“Japok”. Sina kuya Jopak at Japok ay
parehong masaya sa haiskul. Malapit na
sila mag-gradweyt. Kahit madalas silang
na-oopis at na-gagaidans sa iskul ay masaya pa rin sila pagkatapos. Maliban nalang kapag pinapatawag na si inay
sa iskul, hindi na sila masaya.

 

 Pang anim naman po si ate Jolisa. “Isa” po ang tawag namin sa kanya. Nasa ikatlong taon na siya ng haiskul. Mukhang hindi siya masyado masaya dahil lagi
po siyang nag-iisa. Pero sabi niya sa
amin ay masaya na siyang nag-iisa dahil mahilig siyang magbasa. Si ate Isa ang pinakamatalino sa amin. Lagi siyang una sa klase. Siguro po dahil masaya ang kanyang
salamin. Siya lang po ang may salamin sa
aming pamilya. Makapal pa ito at masaya. 

 

Si
ate Julibet naman po ang pang-pito. Unang taon palang siya sa haiskul. Hilig niya ang mga gawaing bahay. Lagi niyang tinutulungan si inay. Hindi ko alam kung bakit minsan “Inday” ang tawag nila sa kanya sa bahay. Basta alam ko masaya si ate Julibet (kasi
nakita ko siya may kaholding-hands sa labas ng bahay nung wala sina inay). 

 

Ang
pang-walo naman po ay si kuya Jamol. Mag-gagradweyt na rin siya sa elementary kasi po grade 6 na siya. Masaya si kuya Jamol kapag kasama ang mga
kaibigan niya. Paborito nila maglaro ng
Beyblade. Minsan nga ay nag-uuwi si kuya
ng mga bagong Beyblade na napanalunan niya. Masaya din ako dahil binigay niya ang isa sa akin. Sabi niya ayun daw ang pinaka-espesyal na
Beyblade dahil gawa pa daw ito ni Kenshin ng Samurai X. Kulay brown po ito at parang may mahabang
matulis na bakal sa dulo nito. May
taling puti nga itong kasama nang ibigay ni kuya sa akin. Sabi ni kuya matibay daw ito dahil hindi ito
gawa sa plastik. Kaya lang hindi ko pa
nasusubukan ilaban ito eh. 

 

Ang
kuya kong sumunod sa akin ay ang pinakamahal naming kapatid. Mahal namin siya dahil siya ay
“special”. Mas “special” pa daw sakin
sabi nila, pero basta alam ko sabi ni inay ay “special” din daw ako. Si kuya Jabong ang pangalan niya. Hindi ko alam kung bakit tinatanong ng mga
kaibigan ng nanay ko sa palengke kung bakit ayun ang ipinangalan niya kay
kuya. Basta alam ko sabi ni itay, paborito
daw ni inay si Bong Revilla nung mga panahon na siya ay nagbubuntis, at para
masundan ang gusto ni itay na “J” lahat ng simula ng mga pangalan namin ay
ginawa nalang itong “Jobong”. Minsan ang
mga tao sa palengke ay tinatawag siyang “Jabongga”. Hindi ko alam kung bakit pa nila pinapahaba. Kuya “Bong-Bong” ang tawag ko sa kaniya. Lagi ko siyang kinakausap at kinekwentuhan kahit
parang hindi siya nakikinig at laging umuuga o kumokoyakoy. Ok lang yun dahil sanay na po ako. Masaya palagi si kuya Bong-Bong. Minsan makikitang naglalaro ng Lego o kaya
mga bloke ng ABC. Lagi ko ngang
nililinis ang kuwarto niya pagkatapos niyang maglaro kasi katabi ko ito. Hindi ko nalang ginagalaw ang mga laruan niya
kasi puro ito laway.

 

Napansin nyo po
naman siguro na lahat ng aking mga kapatid ay may pangalang nagsisimula sa
letrang “J”. Hindi ko po alam kung
bakit, pero ito ang kagustuhan ng aming mga magulang. Syempre hindi papayag sina inay at itay nay
ang bunso nilang anak ay hindi magsisimula sa “J” ang pangalan (ako yun), kaya
lang siguro po ay naubos na po ang mga pangalang nagsisimula sa “J” kasi
ginamit na lahat ng aking mga ate at kuya, kaya po “J10” nalang ang pinangalan
sa akin. Ako na po ang bunso. Sinabi ko na pala yun. Hindi ako masyadong masaya dahil madalas ay

mali

ang tawag ng mga
tao sa akin. Lagi nila ‘kong tinatawag
na “Jio”. Sinaagot ko nalang sa kanila
na “J10 (Jey-Ten) and pangalan ko, hindi Jio!”. Minsan ay nasigaw ko ito sa aking titser at nagalit siya. Kanina pala yun, kaya ngayon ay nasa opis po
ako ng gaidans. Pero ngayon, dahil
naaalala ko ang aking mga kapatid na mahal na mahal ko (lalo na si kuya Bong-Bong),
masaya na ako! 

Christmas Day (^_^)

January 24th, 2006 by iohann

   Image209

Bish, Me, and Jai

We had our traditional Christmas day gathering at the Sison’s place with the usual family friends.

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just click on the thumbnails to enlarge.

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Me, Jmie, Bish, Pam, Angela, Marvie & Tan. on the way to G4 on Christmas Day (^_^)

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Chilled out in Starbucks (for the Christmas coupons!)

went home for dinner, and got our asses whooped by our parents for the first time in a board game (^_^)

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Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas with Mang Jose!!! hehehe super late post (^_^)

January 24th, 2006 by iohann

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Mang Jose. our special guest in Noche Buena (^_^)

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Mexican theme for Christmas eve dinner (^_^) Enchalada & Tacos with Killer-hot Tamales, potato salad, and those great indonesian fried rice my dad cooked (^_^)

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i made the tortillias!!!

FACTS

September 13th, 2005 by iohann

FACT: i only mess with my hair primarily because of a girl(s)

-with the rate of how it looks now, damn. i must be the loneliest dude on earth.

which leads to the next fact…

FACT:  i fear i have acquired impotence

- can my life be any sadder?:( probably caused by the endless chain of depression, pressure, and loneliness.

FACT:  i am actually graduating (^_^)

- yup, prior to my INJUSTICE entry, they actually screwed themselves after i personally talked to the dean.  Thus, my graduation this October.

FACT:  im not psycho anymore.

- believe it or not, i’ve sought help. and finally i could say im not psycho anymore (^_^) which in a way sucks. i feel like it degraded me.  i dont think too much anymore, i dont plot psychotic strategies of revenge, i dont slash myself, and i quit being Othello’s Iago.  it makes me less interesting though =( easier to understand but less interesting. the only thing that remained crazy and weird in me is my fashion statement.

FACT:  i feel like im losing it…

- when i was psycho, i could handle depression, loneliness, pressure, injustice, jealousy, and betrayal.  i could handle it VERY well. but now that im normal… i f*cking cry. yes i f*cking cry like a baby and look for a "friend" for a shoulder to cry on, helpless.  i feel the pain 10X more which makes me throw up — and worst of all, i couldnt even slash myself anymore :(

the worst fact is…

FACT: i fear.

- when i was psycho, i was a MASOCHIST.  i loved pain, thus kept me far from being suicidal.  Pain gives me strength, pain became my pleasure — physical pain, emotional pain, psychological pain…Suicide was a mere escape from the pleasure of pain.  but now that im NOT a masochist anymore… i fear.

it might be a big cliche, but i think im suffering from MORTIS CUPIO  – also known as the "death wish".

"Psychiartics say that the people who tell about their suicidals are those that dont actually push through, they just want to be stopped." — Dr. Luis

"Those who drop hints of their suicidals are f*cking cowards"

–Johannes Daniel G. Garcia

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more dopplegangers

August 31st, 2005 by iohann

Multi_hann_dramaapparently they’re also friends with cynes and dyqa. so they’re blondie boys now huh? weirdos.