Freedom, in the form of a penis.
Escape.
My lease is up in a month, but I moved out last week.
I am a pushover, most of the time. When it comes to asserting myself, I just kind of assume those who I'm opposing will just accept my response and move on.
As soon as I get pushback on my pushback, I rethink my assertion and come to a lesser compromise.
Living with dirty, strange people for a few years made me realize this.
The disgusting sink full o' beef fat, cold grey water, and every silverware utensil fills my imagination with stars and clouds.
I've voiced that I feel like nobody gives a fuck about each other, because of how dirty it is in the house.
So frick-it. I'm out.
No re-upping the lease.
I'd like to thank my landlord for being actually helpful and nice. I'd also like to thank the little brown dog for sitting with me in the garage when I spent long nights building bikes. I hated that dog at first, but he will be the one thing I miss the most (he's not mine).
I trained him to jump onto my bed because he was a-scared to. He ended up jumping onto one of the free-loader's beds and made them crash out HAHAHAHA
(free-loader - as in one who pays rent with their puh)
The scent of a woman
Wendy being that woman.
Red hair, pig tails, freckles, a warm smile... Quietly, from her place in the house, she sits and ponders... A thoughtful girl; warm, even.
Her only problem in that house was that nobody came to pick her up when she needed it the most.
Robin was this way too. Used, and tossed to the side of the room.
The women that entered that house would be met with welcoming arms and kisses; a promise of love.
Jaquelin Thabachs, Bea K., Masha Donald, Pandina Expressina... All tossed aside like they were nothing, once they served their purposes.
All of their fragrances would begin to familiarize themselves with the house. It became the norm to breathe in their perfumes.
They'd stop by frequently. Unable to resist the charm of that room.
I sat in my room; nose held, door frame stuffed with foam, praying that these poor girls would be picked up from their doldrums, and sent on their happy way.
Recycled to live on, free of neglect.
(bro pick up your trash in your room it stinks - burn your sheets too it's pretty bad)
Exit plan.
I can't live with parental units forever. I'm using this time to save some cash for a down payment on my own place. My job pays me enough to live on my own, so I just need a little bit of guap before I start looking.
I started talking to a guy who is actually interested in me (I think). It's pretty early into it, so I have every guard up.
My mom don't fuck wit RGB people that well, especially the pink blue and white ones. I love her, but I can't bring another grown man into the house and look her in the eyes.
A freedom I've given up for a short time is the freedom to love another man.
Not that it's the most important thing to me, but I feel like I did when I was much younger.
I can't sneak ass through the window like I used to.
It's a two story house.
A few months of saving and I'm out.
I feel okay.