There’s something wrong yeah I agree; We got a drama!
Outside of my apartment, there is a creek. It is nothing too impressive, filled mostly by rainwater. Occasionally though, a deer wanders through, and it is a constant home to those half city creatures like raccoons, possums and skunks.
At first glance, it is what keeps me sane; the only green in my immediate world. When you take more then a passing glance however, the disgusting reality starts to set in. Bent bike tires and sneakers hang like fruits from the trees while beer bottles and condoms could be mistaken for fish. Unable to tolerate this disrespect, I began commiting one day every week or so to cleaning up my would-be safety. As I have been traveling the past few weekends, the trash heap began to grow untamed. Weeds blocking out the sunlight, strangling my plants. Yesterday I decided, was the perfect time to get my hands dirty. Six trash bags and and a few scratches later my little haven looked decent.
And then the night came.
I live in what one might call a 'party complex'. 'Mad hyphy' parties 'rage' weekend after weekend, cheap beer slopping over balconies like stale rain. Last night as I walked home from a friend's at around two am, a party balcony called out to me. This is the conversation that followed:
Party: Hey aren't you the girl who's always down in the creek?
Me: Um, yes.
Party: Dude, why? Its like gross!
Me: Someone has to clean it for just that reason.
Party: Ah, well clean this!
*throws massive amount of assorted shit over balcony into creek*
Me: The creek says thanks, fucker.
...
This is my proclamation of WAR.
At first glance, it is what keeps me sane; the only green in my immediate world. When you take more then a passing glance however, the disgusting reality starts to set in. Bent bike tires and sneakers hang like fruits from the trees while beer bottles and condoms could be mistaken for fish. Unable to tolerate this disrespect, I began commiting one day every week or so to cleaning up my would-be safety. As I have been traveling the past few weekends, the trash heap began to grow untamed. Weeds blocking out the sunlight, strangling my plants. Yesterday I decided, was the perfect time to get my hands dirty. Six trash bags and and a few scratches later my little haven looked decent.
And then the night came.
I live in what one might call a 'party complex'. 'Mad hyphy' parties 'rage' weekend after weekend, cheap beer slopping over balconies like stale rain. Last night as I walked home from a friend's at around two am, a party balcony called out to me. This is the conversation that followed:
Party: Hey aren't you the girl who's always down in the creek?
Me: Um, yes.
Party: Dude, why? Its like gross!
Me: Someone has to clean it for just that reason.
Party: Ah, well clean this!
*throws massive amount of assorted shit over balcony into creek*
Me: The creek says thanks, fucker.
...
This is my proclamation of WAR.