Dear life,

After living on my own for nearly five months now, I have moved back into my parents’ place. Now usually this is a great thing but I lived with real-life neanderthals. That’s right, though thought extinct they are very much alive and posed as my roommates. In the beginning, things were great, I mean which young adult doesn’t love the thrill of moving out and tackling life on your own. The beginning of our first steps into independence, and a big “I’ll show you” moment. Low a behold it was worse. To be fair I stupidly chose to live with two guys who would soon turn our apartment into a trap house. Like the ones from those pretentious douches from rap videos. For example, I, being a student was trying to be responsible, I hate school enough as it is so let’s not make it worse by surrounding yourself with idiots amiright? Wellll fak. Waking up at 10am to find a bunch of random smelly dudes doing lines in your living room doesn’t exactly inspire the term “responsibility” or “healthy living environment”.

To be fair, I’m no Mother Mary either. Working at a bar has its perks, but free alcohol is definitely not one of them. I mean it is, but then it gets old. I came home drunk after work more often than not, the difference is, however, I’m still a FUNCTIONING borderline alcoholic. They would smoke-no joke- an average of 5-6 joints a day, couple that with a few MDMA pills and top it off with some shrooms and you got yourself one mind-fuck cocktail.

In the beginning, I would clean regularly, but then at some point, I gave up. You know those dreams where you’re trying your hardest to run but you just can’t seem to make yourself run faster? Your palms sweat, heart beats faster, you think “push push push” but nope. Nada. That’s what cleaning that apartment felt like. You’re thinking; “why didn’t you just talk to them about it like civilized people?”  Well dearest, I did, but it’s kind of hard when the person you are talking to is convinced that reality isn’t a thing and that everything and everyone is just a figment of your imagination. Time to lay off the drugs? That shit must look like swiss cheese. I guess the whole point, is that maybe moving in with people who you thought you knew isn’t the best idea. Because once you live with them there’s a good chance it’ll ruin your friendship. 🤦🏼‍♂️



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