roommateswar

[roommateswar]

Dear ------,

What would I say to you if I saw you again? I’d like to write you a letter, but that time in our lives is over and it wouldn’t be appropriate anymore. You have your family, I have my partner. I interpreted your last handwritten letter to me as your way of saying goodbye. Goodbye to me, goodbye to any lingering feelings for me, goodbye to any vague hope to continue our relationship in the future. I didn’t respond to you, I didn’t know what to say and I found acceptance to be a peaceful enough answer.

But now I find myself wishing I could cry in your arms and process how I feel about ----- with you instead. Why? Why now? Why you? I find myself revisiting old fantasies about running into you again when we are both old and widowed and getting back together. I imagine some sort of overwhelming catharsis to whatever pain we had both suffered in our time apart. I know we’ll both be different people when we’re old, hell we’re already different people than we were back then. I saw that even when we met up in San Francisco all those years ago. I just. I don’t know. That feels like the most accessible way for me to heal right now, and that’s pretty fucked up. I can’t picture a way to heal and be happy with my current life so I latch onto this fantasy that is at once both incredibly distant but somehow plausible. When I imagine rebuilding my current life it always starts with leaving him. It’s almost easier to imagine going back to square one, both romantically and financially, than it is to keep trying to make this work. Like I told him earlier today, I think we’re both depressed and that we bring each other down. I have a hard enough time managing my own depression, and it feels as if whenever I’m able to make some incremental progress with myself that being around him just brings me back down to where I was before. So I try and drag him along with me in my half-assed way, with absolutely no regard for whatever it is he actually needs or wants, and that doesn’t work either. I wish he would just fucking go to therapy and work on his own issues on his own but he just won’t. Obviously I can’t force him, nor can I hand him a list of things to work on with his imaginary therapist. But I really fucking wish I could. It’s like I can almost see the cracks in him where my incremental progress is draining out, but I know that those may not necessarily be the worst cracks he’s got. His underlying issues will probably warrant more priority for when (if) he ever seeks help, and probably in time they would close enough to begin healing the cracks that I can see. And I want to keep believing that this will happen someday, but I’m not seeing any progress. And that might just be my own myopia and self-centeredness, or it might be that he’s not actually making any progress. I don’t know.

And it’s probably not even him! My problems are my own and they’re from much larger issues that simply whatever the fuck is going on in our relationship. I don’t have a goddamn job! I don’t have a social life anymore! I’m afraid to go back to normal because there’s still a fucking pandemic going on! I could AND SHOULD start taking all those steps I envision for after I leave him and just do them now! Just skip the leaving him part and start fucking rebuilding my goddamn life right now, where I am. And I know that would probably help! A lot! But I keep just, not doing that. Any of it. I feel the most pressure to act when I feel most miserable, but when I feel more normal I just avoid doing anything toward any of those goals so I feel bad again when I’m miserable next.

Why I needed to say any of this to you is beyond me right now. I guess I just still trust you. You were the last happiest relationship I can remember. And I suppose I still believe that being with you would not have precluded all the other happy moments I’ve had away from you. On some level I think I still wish ----- was you and part of my disappointment with him is just that he doesn’t do things the same way you did. And that’s completely unfair of me. It’s unfair to him, it’s unfair to me, and it’s probably unfair to you somehow too. I think we’ve moved beyond rose-colored glasses by now, it’s like fucking rose-colored binoculars or some shit. Rose-colored microscope? Telescope? Oscilloscope? Might as well be a rose-colored gun scope for all the good it’s doing me. Fuck I’m glad I didn’t try to write you a real letter, this is a goddamn disaster. And that’s why I haven’t written you any letters since way back when: I know that it would just be a disaster like this. It wouldn’t really be a letter to you but a letter to what I imagine/remember of you. I think you were good at taking care of me, but I don’t remember taking care of you at all. I don’t really remember you having problems at all. At the time I felt like I was finally dating an equal, instead of the babysitting relationships I’d had up ‘til then, but I don’t remember actually doing my part and I can’t imagine what you saw in that young idiot I remember being. You did love me, I remember that without any doubt, and I’d like to say that you deserved better but I don’t regret any of our relationship. Sure, I regret some of my own actions, but the relationship itself was worth it and continues to have been worth it even now. I could say that I miss you, but I miss everything. I miss my friends, I miss my life (lives?), I miss being active and doing things. I miss meeting new people, I miss traveling, I miss going to parties, I miss having my intellect challenged, I miss laughing. I miss having adventures, I miss staying in being a treat rather than the default. I miss the back and forth of witty banter.

Well, thanks for listening, ghost of imaginary ------ past. I hope the real you is doing well.

Love,

RaCheedle Chum

#letters to the past #letter to my ex #rose colored glasses #relationships #pandemic depression #rose colored binoculars #introspection #get some goddamn therapy #things i miss #catharsis #crying

[roommateswar]

Craigslust Subtract

To whom it may concern: Double occupancy heart seeks third and fourth ventricles. Please bring hand pumps and red food dye. No need to strong-arm the fuzzy handcuffs at the door, they have been tamed. -Twat-watcher Extraordinaire

#twat-watcher #fuzzy handcuffs #heart #to whom it may concern #love letter

[roommateswar]

Sunday Sirens Beckon My Wafting Shores

Dear Diary,

It is your loving Ra-Cha-Cha here.  I suppose you know this as I am the only one who utilizes you... except when Trev Trev finds you and draws pictures of a Penilecorn (Unicorn featuring a penis in place of a horn) or occasionally the rare Bi-Penile-Cornipussy.

I was awoken today by 3 renditions of the national anthem followed by the screaming of my brain as it tried helplessly trying to claw its way out of my head. 

I will spend my day contemplating the meaning of Twerk.

Love

The bloody mess that is Ra-Cha-Cha's Chum blaster

#twerk #rachacha #sriracha #rooster sauce #deary diary #trev terv #penis #unicorn #penilecorn #national anthem #screaming #brain #claw #love #hope #hate #contemplations #chum blaster #bloody mess

[roommateswar]

I am red rocked

Today I sat looking at the woman whose loins had once spat me onto a cold operating table wondering if I could hit her hard enough to cause her nose to cave into the back of her head.  I would never act on this thought, but the contemplation still demands my attention.

In my imagination the droning sound of her constant bitching becomes a wave that will carry me away to swim with dolphins and sea urchins... in my imagination sea urchins are kind of like unicorns with a bunch or horns and kitten bodies...

Is it Tuesday yet?

Son of Ra-Cha-Cha

#miley cyrus #kittens #cal #arizona #mom #roommate #romance

[roommateswar]

Dearest of Diaries

Today I killed a man with my brain. He shrieked and sizzled as the lightning played across his bones. The smell of burnt flesh reached me before his skin had even begun to blacken. His ‘87 black corvette swerved into the median ditch and ran aground before it could flip satisfactorily, but I still smiled my old slow grin.

As I watched him drive off safely once the stoplight turned, I marveled at the violence within me. You can unleash the monster, but it still comes home at night. 

-Trevelations 14:38

#unleash #monster #kill #murder #lightning #burnt flesh #zombie #imagination #corvette #median #driving in cars with boys #traffic fantasies #traffic #you are the traffic #marvel #dc #violence #revelations #trev trev

[roommateswar]

They Call Me Willy and I am a Low Man

I am sat exchanging smiles and pleasantries for a few unsuspecting dollars.  A friendly face arrives and a shiny trinket leaves my view.  When I was younger dreams told me tales of something more than this.   Some strange view that said if I read, studied and dreamed there would be a future.  Once my horizon was a bright and shiny one, with happy faced suns and singing sunflowers leading me along a highway paved with diplomas and degrees. And now I cannot see past the ever falling rain to see a horizon.  The brightest point of my day is the warm tingling sensation of cracking open a brand new hand warmer.  I have stretched my face like I have stretched my patience and I really want a cookie.

-RA-Chortle-Pie (no pie included)

#Pie #Sales #Death of a salesman #sad #rageplacent #sunshine #happytrees #mom #howdoyouhashtag #hashtag #numbersine

[roommateswar]

Pavlov Unleashed

There are no billable hours in an existential crisis, and project deliverables should probably not be soaked in blood. These are the things they never taught you in all those classes. Weeping in a bathroom will often go unnoticed, but each tear shed at your desk will count as a strike against you. They claim you only need three strikes, but you’ve never actually hit anyone here. Staring people down when they pass your desk is considered aggressive behavior, but not looking them in the eye at all makes you seem untrustworthy. I guess only aggression can be trusted. There is something to be said for consistency, I suppose. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure someone more eloquent might have something convincing to say on the subject.

-Trevachacha (jazz hands actualized)

#aggression #shoegaze #navelgazing #consistency #blood #deliverables #existential crisis #billable hours #things they never taught in school #pavlov #unleashed #trev trev

[roommateswar]

Eternally Yesterday

It is day 193 since I first noticed that the freckles on the underside of my forearm could easily be arranged into Munch's The Scream.  Perhaps this is some form of existential quandary perpetuating itself through my human need to form patterns.  Mayhaps I will see Jesus in my toast this morning.  I make breakfast and contemplate the correlations with my life and that of St. Sebastian... Jesus did not appear in my muffin, am I forsaken?  A small chuckle rolls through the deepest corner of my bowels and I quickly stifle it before it hits the surface.  There is no time for laughing today, today is for the everyday, today is for the same as same,  today will long be forgotten just as it started.  I am cold, and where is my unicorn?

  Ra-Cha-Cha

#roommate #kanye west #The Sceem #unicorn #jesus #toast #breakfast

[roommateswar]

February 31

I woke with a start and a boner this morning, lying beside an Amazonian goddess who helped me end the latter. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I trekked out into the darkness to acquire an even darker brew, that aromatic nectar of life. The sweetness of my bean-based lifeblood quickly faded to bitterness as I was forced to face the tasks of the day. Emails and shemales endlessly adorn my computer screen as I wade through the hidden annals of the microns gone soft. Remedies administered with a swift flick of the wrist, I am a god in my small world of webs and lies, like a sexy spiderman who instead mutates the planet around him. There is no god but me.

-Trev Trev the great

#email #shemale #wake up #coffee #nectar of the gods #microsoft #february 31 #impossible #spiderman #sexy #web #lies

[roommateswar]

Day 97

I sit lapping at a bowl of freshly opened cereal and take note that the sweater is still adorning the chair across from me.  I am not sure when the sweater arrived, but I am positive I have requested it leave.  Much like my mother it seemingly has no concept of when to leave.

  I eagerly tear the sweater apart in my waking dreams.  Ripping each thread from its disgusting crumpled nothingness. 

  Last night was a precious one.  I ventured to the sun, the moon and the stars on the back of a unicorn that was propelled by rainbow colored farts.  This of course did not happen, but damnit if it wasn't better than my adventure into feverishly attempting to masturbate while searching the depths of Youtube.   I am the happy beaver building a dam for never more.

  Love, kittens and chlamydia

  -Ra-Cha-Cha

#kittens #dear diary #chlamydia #rachacha #precious #sun #moon #stars #unicorn #farts #sweater #cereal #chair #request #waking dreams

[roommateswar]

Day 11.12.13

Today I provided my roommate with joyous news, the disgusting smell of seminal fluid that wafted through the corridor of our apartment was not formerly of his body.  Instead it belonged to some strange that I had brought in.   

  Fully familiar with my roommates shadenfreude I knew he would take great joy in my mostly awkward encounter with the wildlife. And now dear journal, I write to you wire hung over and flaking the dried sadness from my loins. 

  I have a sandwich that I pieced together from the remnants of the meat drawer.  It is the sopping wet mess I resembled last night... minus the wet. I have begun searching through the outermost parts of the internet in search of entertainment, or satisfaction.  This is my day off and I deserve entertainment. 

  I am writing you as I doodle in-between sentences.  I have drawn a unicorn spearing a kitty who is enjoying a lovely glass of chardonnay.  I feel this excellently depicts my new perception on life.  A woody, dry, vanilla cup of joy followed by a slow and painful death, or maybe I just like drawing impaled kittahs (as the internet spells the word). 

  I leave you now as I must venture into the kitchen and do battle with the small collection of dishes I have made.  My roommate is as anal as a gay porn about such things, and I presume he will return on the morrow. 

  Good day Diary, until tomorrow.

  Love,

  Ra-Cha-Cha (jazz hands implied)

#dear diary #semen #day off #roommate #rachacha #jazz hands #dishes #anal #kittahs