flawed.
always.
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Ishak Johari. 18 this year. 19 next year. 20 two years after. 21 three years.. Ah,you get the point.
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Friday, 11 September 2009
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I AM NOT DEAD.Yeap.I had to take a while for this to sink in,at the hospital,but when it did I felt really,really,really,really,really happy.okay,I admit.part of my happiness came from the morphine they injected in me.so now I know why they call it the 'happy drug'.okay.Irrelevant.
Woke up,and first thing I did was to text my mum and Miss A.next,came my bullying buddy,jemm.after that,spent the next 15 minutes fighting off a young nurse who wanted to sponge my body.My body is for my future wife please,thank you.
Went home that very day,at my own request.truth is,I just can't stand the uncle who was talking non-stop,spitting out vulgarities beside me.I had to save myself from pummeling him to his death.Rested at home.
Next day,baru nak relax,kena buat itulah,inilah...so I did all the stuff out of love for my dear mum.Frankly,I'm glad I lived.Like really.so the person getting 65% of my love now is my mum because that's what I should have done anyway all these years.
Okay,thank you,all you people that have prayed for me,wished me and even hold their spongebob squarepants dolls for me.Thank you,I appreciate it very much.Now I'm out.
Miss A,hold on,hang on.I still love you.
@ 11:14 am