let’s talk about

Myke, like most of us are, hates it when things become mainstream. Because he is selfish and because he himself is secretly mainstream and likes that space only for himself. Myke has too many nicknames given by special people but grew up being called Mikko at home which makes him sound like an overgrown special child. If you call him Mikko after this, he will kill you with his bare hands. Scrape your eyeballs out of their sockets. Tear your tongue. Rip your every tendon. Pull your armpits’ hair. Again, with his bare hands. To save your self, he prefers to be called Myke instead. An attempt to go against the most common spelling of a very common name. Partly because the name Michael is mainstream and Myke used to be an unusual spelling. Used to be.

Myke is good at almost everything but is best at procrastinating and killing mosquitoes with his eyes shut. He believes that the world is a big school with no one but teachers who teaches each other. He believed this so much that instead of learning within the academe, he skips his classes whenever he feels like doing so to watch Late Night with Conan O’ Brien in morning, or watch adult porn to get in touch with his sensuality or predicting an unanticipated free cut. But he has the knack for saving himself from flunking his subjects because he’s smart enough to pass without studying, Myke spends most of his time biting his nails, or other people’s heads off.

Myke was manic-depressive. And for that, he needed to see self-proclaimed shrinks, on a regular basis, reversely sending his sanity to the wheelie bin. He’s been referred to as “wasak” by many of his friends, the so called shrinks. That is until he found the love of his life. Which he won’t name in this paper.♥ He prefers not to discuss his most personal issues.

Myke is atelophobic, bufonophobic, dementophobic, hagiophobic, monophobic, poinephobic. Bet you want to go phobiaphobic on him now, do you? His favorite is cacophobia. But that is typical of him.

Myke was a hater, until he saw Daniel Vinyard get killed. Myke will die of a gunshot. How does anyone know? Well, they just do. Ah, a gunshot and/or cancer of whatever. Those, or the earth will open and eat his lazy ass alive. You’ll all see.

Myke has four siblings who are twenty more years older than him. Composed of an eldest brother who is working in South Africa and justifying his detachment from the family, an eldest sister who embraces the family tight, too tight, everybody gets squished, and a life-saving, financial-helping, heroine of the family, and obviously a nurse in the US of A for a sister who has a family in Nevada but has never been there for him (Myke), at least literally, and that’s it. Oh, before he is forgotten again. He has a college drop-out family man of a brother who almost looks like his twin, only twenty years older. Almost like him and vice versa. Hopefully not more than that. This makes his family big, complicated and often overly-dramatic with too many whining characters hungry for the spotlight. In spite of this crowd, his childhood was spent mostly playing alone with imaginary friends like G.I. Joe action figures and Barbie with Ken. Never miss out on a Ken doll.

Myke is on middle grounds of solutions and complications. The tendency he has go far as the heavens and near as the microbes in your skin. But, he is very predictable to the very least. To himself, that is.

Myke is also almost always under the influence of fill-in-the-blank.

Myke thinks he was a hater until he realized how there’s too much needling in this world not to hate. He can be very very very conflicting, I shit you not. So he gives a façade that everything is all right when it is not. Publicly in denial, but very true to himself. Why would I let things ruin myself twice? He often reminds the Gillette, the hanged wire, and some mothballs around the house. He tries to be a positive in most aspects. Except when HIV is the topic, he tends to defer.

Myke enjoys media and attention. Media attention is what he would think of as a benchmark that he has made it big. Just like Sid Vicious of the band the Sex Pistols, like Princess Diana of Wales, and like JFK. Before they ended their lives because of too much media attention. Albeit the known warning, he still watches too much television, and reads too much rubbish. He is an escapist like any other person who is not contented with his present state. That’s why he prefers the third person point of view. He won’t have to blame himself if the character is seen appallingly by the mediocre capitalists. He believes that he is meant for greatness. At least one does – himself.

Myke thinks his life is one promising cinematic genius. Only that nobody wants to produce it yet. Unless he takes his clothes off in one of the scenes. Get a few more pounds or at least have an evident shape for the arse. Smoke pot like a rock star or sell it to kids. And turn out to be Mary Magdalene in the end.

Myke loves to write in random. If you were smart enough to notice, he has been blabbering without any clear direction. Just like his life. It seems there is none.

Myke is the God of himself. Myke knows no holy ghost and believes Jesus is just as human as him, only perpetuated by ordinary people and is extremely more popular than he will ever be. Myke is over debating on religion. He says it’s just not worth it. Although whenever he’s in trouble, he would go to church and pray as if he never thought of the previous idea. His Christian church’s name is Victory which is kept clandestine from his parents. His religious status is nominally Catholic. His faith is diminishing every now and then. You need to pray for this child. He’s too languid to do it for himself.

Myke is happy. Love makes him happy and he asks the world to respect the sacredness of love and its entire dogma, even the word itself. It is every inch worthy of everyone’s respect. Because love consumed Myke. Consumed Myke. Consumed him.

You see, Myke is very typical. In this universe, he very well is.