Monday, February 16, 2009
When I first moved out on my own, it was to a cramped yet slightly cozy dorm room, with a wild room mate who thought that the desk separating our sides of the room was enough of a barrier to enjoy loud sex with the numerous guys she brought home. Oh how many times did I feign sleep in that room. Eventually, the creek of the mattress and the erotic moans of pleasure were my lullabies, and I would fall right to sleep.
At the end of the year, I was eager to move into my new apartment with three of my friends. It was exciting. We went out with each other at night, made dinner together, watched movies together, everything... together. Basically we were playing house. Unfortunately, none of us are close anymore, as living with friends (at least for petty girls) becomes the death of the friendship.
And so I again moved into my own little apartment. All by my lonesome. Except for my faithful canine companion (who will soon pop like a scene out of Alien). And it was great. I loved it. Things happened though, I made some very bad choices, my life was partly ruined, and I'm just now pulling it back together.
I am now once again in an apartment with room mates, and I loathe it with every inch of my being. I hate being in such close proximity with two other people every day of my life. I hate not being able to walk naked out of my apartment. And most of all - I HATE APARTMENTS! I cannot walk outside without seeing people. I hear people through my walls at times. People park in my parking spot. The spots aren't necessarily assigned, but I claim this one as it is on an edge and directly in front of my door. Seems logical to me. Mine. Don't park there.
Basically, I do not like other people. Anyone. I prefer to be alone, and only interact with other humans when forced to do so. There are some people I tolerate (such as my beloved room mate) and other people I love being around (My Demon), but if I were to be locked away in solitary confinement for the rest of my days, I would thank my lucky stars.
I want a house. And not just any house. I want a secluded house, designed and decorated to my taste. I dream about this house. I daydream about this house. Hell, I even masturbate to this house. I want a goddamn house so I can move out of my goddamn apartment and be free from all the rigmarole that goes along with apartment living. It is an awful existence, and I would not wish it upon my worst enemy.