Alright, here’s the deal.
Ashley is paying twice as much to get one room of the apartment all to herself.
Maria’s trying to start a fight with her over the manner in which she announced it.
Lametria’s still a fucktard, and thankfully, doesn’t live here.
Ashley had planned to have a room to herself before Maria moved in. Maria should have been with me in the first place, but she was a fucking retard and moved into Ashley’s room.
Twice, in one conversation, I told Maria to be quiet, I get it, she doesn’t need to repeat everything.
Now she’s fighting with Ashley.
Fucking drama queen.
—
I used to wonder why I stayed hidden behind the monitor, why my life was lived in text rather than the spoken word.
I find it much saner here.
In high school, that was the focus of my life. Get up, go to school, get online. I had a form of social contact (school) but I spent most of my time to myself. Moving out here, I’ve been forced into social contact.
I wish everything could be so simple again. Go to school, get online, go to work, and, most importantly, not be bothered. But now, it seems every person who moves in wants me to be their friend, their sister, their mother. Everyone wants me to not only listen to their problems, but smile and agree with them, and tell them it’ll be alright, here’s a dollar, go spend it on something you don’t need.
They seem to forget one important point when taking actions: I have known them for a month or less. Just because we live together does not mean that we will get along no matter what. It does not mean what’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine. I do not want to share anything with people I’ve only known a few days or weeks, nor do I want to hear about them, their problems, or their loveable dog they left behind.
And I don’t give a fuck who they fuck, and I’d appreciate it if they returned the sentiment.
Of the 8 roommates I’ve had in the past 7 months, only two of them I actually got along with. Everyone else has been in and out in three months or less. It’s not worth the time to get to know them anymore.
And everyone’s got a quirk. I’m sure I’ve got one that gets on people’s nerves. It might be that my workspace is cluttered with papers. It might be that I spend a lot of time on the internet. It might be the video games.
But I get stuck with thieves who justify their actions by saying that what they stole didn’t affect the person at all, and that she’d only steal from people who weren’t in need; and then she stole from me on several occasions. I get stuck with a delusional suburb-raised girl who thinks everyone’s had the same opportunities as her. I get stuck with a racist who doesn’t realize her comments are bad. I get stuck with a weak-willed girl who breaks up with her boyfriend of two years after one week here, and after she’d already fucked someone else. I get stuck with a ghetto-raised girl who thinks she’s a queen. I get stuck with an alcoholic rich-bitch whose parents bought her everything she ever wanted. I get stuck with a … and I hate using this term, but it’s what she is … hick slut who thinks she’s so bad-ass because she drives a truck and uses a man’s razor. I get stuck with another delusional suburb girl who must be close to deaf because she’s never speaking below a shout. She’s never lived outside the suburbs until now, she’s 24, and she thinks she’s already seen the world through and through.
And, of course, if A has a problem with B; C, D, E, and the rest of the alphabet hear about it before B. And then everyone bitches about how they hate how no one ever says anything to their faces.
Sure, it’d be nice if everyone did that … but it’d only work if no one took offense, which they are guaranteed to do. People keep from saying things as to not cause bad blood – but that doesn’t explain why they’d bitch to EVERYONE ELSE first. I say nothing to anyone until they ask. I repeat nothing. Gossip is evil. I never gossip until I’m sure that neither I, nor the person I’m talking to, will come in contact with the person it’s about.
I hate people.
Always have, always will.
Now, to post, and to sit and listen to Maria bitch. I don’t mind listening to people bitch sometimes. People need to vent. I don’t mind that. Unless it’s stupid and repatative. Which this probably be.