(no subject)
Holy fuck.
I'm updating this old friggin thing.
Why? I don't know. It seems that whenever I start to feel myself slipping into this confused stupor.. I turn to here to try to sort my life out. As if, by writing it down here.. Everything will be OK.
Everything has been going so damn well. Just so damn well. I've got a great job.. I'm on my way to becoming a chef.. I've been getting along flawlessly with my folks.. I've come to realise that NO, i'm not the unstable one.. Just my roommates are FUCKING MENTAL. So I'm not bothering with them... But still, its amazing how much tension people can create when they just don't give a fuck. I'm not talking me - I'm talking them. I do my best to be civil and social. I LIKE to have people around me living in peace. But, No - I'm the dramatic one. Because I try to keep to myself and stay out of choosing sides in arguments. It seems the more you try to stay away from a child's tantrum.. The more you just try to ignore it.. The worse and worse it gets.
I'm tired of it all. So very tired of it all. When I was first asked to move in.. They said they weren't going to put me on the lease. I was cool with it, I'm a smart guy.. Because they didn't know me at all they were worried I'd turn out to be crazy or something and that was the easiest way to get rid of me. Its funny how this shit works out. I think I'm the only sane fucking person here.. But slowly being driven crazy. Its a pity my foolish fucking morals and sense of commitment won't let me just get up and leave, like these children deserve to have me do. I'm sick and tired of people who solely think of their OWN needs and trying to explain how this all works out would turn out to be one of the hardest sentences I've ever tried to form in my life. For Example: I buy 2kg of sugar. People eat this sugar like its fucking candy, like its going out of style.. Like its the air they breathe. So, I'm out of sugar.. They buy sugar cubes. SO - maybe they ate 1.5kG of my sugar.. But if I were to use -2- sugar cubes like I did one day, world war III breaks out(Yeah, seriously.. You're OCD to the point you fucking know if 2 sugar cubes are used... Is that SERIOUSLY the sign of somebody who is stable? I can barely tell when people drink 1/2 a litre of milk on me...) ANOTHER example - its OK for somebody to use my milk, but if I need just a drop for my coffee.. Again, World war III.
Why the fuck am I trying so hard to get along with people who have so... Perfectly shown that they are not worth the time or effort. I have tried so very hard to get these freaks to accept me... Why, I don't even fucking know. I'm slowly starting to get out of this fucked up mindset this last year has gotten me into. I honestly.. Should just get up and leave. LIVING WITH MY PARENTS IS BETTER THAN THIS. Thats saying a lot. There are amazing stories of how much my father and I use to butt heads. AMAZING FUCKING STORIES. Like that time he told me to not talk to him anymore because I starting growing facial hair, started playing guitar and wanted to let my hair grow a bit. MAN, did that set him off. And seriously, that'd be so much easier to deal with than these freaks.
Fuck this Province. Fuck this city. Fuck the rest of the country for how they view the Maritimes... Most of all: Fuck these fucking people. THE VERY FIRST THING I SHOULD'VE DONE WHEN I FOUND OUT THEY HAD LIED ABOUT THEIR AGES WAS MOVE THE FUCK OUT. (Yeah, nice... I think I move in 23-year olds.. Suddenly one of them has their 21st birthday 2 months after I move in.. Wait a sec... Whats going on here....)
I'm sick and tired of it all. I mean, they don't even fucking talk to each other when they're pissy... What do they do? FUCKING WRITE NOTES ALL OVER THE GOD-DAMNED KITCHEN. Just bitch about each other behind their backs.. *sighs*
Oh, and then there is one in particular.. Who was all cool with me while I was smoking pot all the time.. Now that I never want to and barely EVER do... She only talks to me for about 3 sentences and then asks if I have any pot. As soon as I say no... BOOM. Conversation is over and nothing else is said.
Gee, maybe thats another fucking sign.
Fuck. It. All.
I'M MOVING.
*sighs*
I hate finding roommates. I think I'll just take off to Alberta.
I'm updating this old friggin thing.
Why? I don't know. It seems that whenever I start to feel myself slipping into this confused stupor.. I turn to here to try to sort my life out. As if, by writing it down here.. Everything will be OK.
Everything has been going so damn well. Just so damn well. I've got a great job.. I'm on my way to becoming a chef.. I've been getting along flawlessly with my folks.. I've come to realise that NO, i'm not the unstable one.. Just my roommates are FUCKING MENTAL. So I'm not bothering with them... But still, its amazing how much tension people can create when they just don't give a fuck. I'm not talking me - I'm talking them. I do my best to be civil and social. I LIKE to have people around me living in peace. But, No - I'm the dramatic one. Because I try to keep to myself and stay out of choosing sides in arguments. It seems the more you try to stay away from a child's tantrum.. The more you just try to ignore it.. The worse and worse it gets.
I'm tired of it all. So very tired of it all. When I was first asked to move in.. They said they weren't going to put me on the lease. I was cool with it, I'm a smart guy.. Because they didn't know me at all they were worried I'd turn out to be crazy or something and that was the easiest way to get rid of me. Its funny how this shit works out. I think I'm the only sane fucking person here.. But slowly being driven crazy. Its a pity my foolish fucking morals and sense of commitment won't let me just get up and leave, like these children deserve to have me do. I'm sick and tired of people who solely think of their OWN needs and trying to explain how this all works out would turn out to be one of the hardest sentences I've ever tried to form in my life. For Example: I buy 2kg of sugar. People eat this sugar like its fucking candy, like its going out of style.. Like its the air they breathe. So, I'm out of sugar.. They buy sugar cubes. SO - maybe they ate 1.5kG of my sugar.. But if I were to use -2- sugar cubes like I did one day, world war III breaks out(Yeah, seriously.. You're OCD to the point you fucking know if 2 sugar cubes are used... Is that SERIOUSLY the sign of somebody who is stable? I can barely tell when people drink 1/2 a litre of milk on me...) ANOTHER example - its OK for somebody to use my milk, but if I need just a drop for my coffee.. Again, World war III.
Why the fuck am I trying so hard to get along with people who have so... Perfectly shown that they are not worth the time or effort. I have tried so very hard to get these freaks to accept me... Why, I don't even fucking know. I'm slowly starting to get out of this fucked up mindset this last year has gotten me into. I honestly.. Should just get up and leave. LIVING WITH MY PARENTS IS BETTER THAN THIS. Thats saying a lot. There are amazing stories of how much my father and I use to butt heads. AMAZING FUCKING STORIES. Like that time he told me to not talk to him anymore because I starting growing facial hair, started playing guitar and wanted to let my hair grow a bit. MAN, did that set him off. And seriously, that'd be so much easier to deal with than these freaks.
Fuck this Province. Fuck this city. Fuck the rest of the country for how they view the Maritimes... Most of all: Fuck these fucking people. THE VERY FIRST THING I SHOULD'VE DONE WHEN I FOUND OUT THEY HAD LIED ABOUT THEIR AGES WAS MOVE THE FUCK OUT. (Yeah, nice... I think I move in 23-year olds.. Suddenly one of them has their 21st birthday 2 months after I move in.. Wait a sec... Whats going on here....)
I'm sick and tired of it all. I mean, they don't even fucking talk to each other when they're pissy... What do they do? FUCKING WRITE NOTES ALL OVER THE GOD-DAMNED KITCHEN. Just bitch about each other behind their backs.. *sighs*
Oh, and then there is one in particular.. Who was all cool with me while I was smoking pot all the time.. Now that I never want to and barely EVER do... She only talks to me for about 3 sentences and then asks if I have any pot. As soon as I say no... BOOM. Conversation is over and nothing else is said.
Gee, maybe thats another fucking sign.
Fuck. It. All.
I'M MOVING.
*sighs*
I hate finding roommates. I think I'll just take off to Alberta.