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Dirty Apartment Sunny
when i moved back into the apartment building i used to formerly live in i
thought it would be cool. i could pick up the thread of my life from where i
had left it before. it would be the same old neighborhood, my same favorite
bar two blocks away and the gas station dispatching gas right behind the
alley.
unfortunately i didn't get my old room, my friend whom i had subletted
it to had settled into it comfortably. i got the room right next to it. it
was small. it is a small room. its a room with a kitchen in a little alcove.
the bathroom is in one side, though shielded by a wall. there is a tiny
closet whose door jams into the bathrooms door on the left side area of the
room. imagine if you will unlocking the door and coming in. a wall faces you
20 feet away. the right hand side has a wall with a set of windows at the end
which look out at the backside of the buildings which row the street next to
mine. the kitchen, bathroom and closet are on the left hand side. the width
is 15 feet, 25 where the kitchen is. there are no counters for the kitchen,
just sink, gas range and a little space which my dish rack occupies. the
fridge is old but works reliabily. i put my mattress and the wooden block
which goes below it in one corner of the room. i threw away its wheels and
stuff. next to it i put a little table with drawers. this i use to store my
checkbook, money, weed, tv and vcr remote controls and national geographic
and pornographic magazines.
about a month ago i got sick of all the porn mags
and what they did to me, so i decided to get rid of them. i went out one cold
night and randomly stacked them on street corners. i quite enjoyed imagining
the joy i was bringing people who while walking around would be able to enjoy
what was previously my porn.
next to the table is a hallogenic lamp which
directs its light to the roof. its very bright. next to it is a big folding
table from Hechingers. currently, my computer and various papers which i
accumulated during my lenghty job search occupy most of the space. i put my
stereo system on the table too when i want to listen to it. when i use the
computer i put it down on the floor, since it bangs my arm. there is space on
the table for both things, yet i have not found the energy or the desire or
the inclination to rectify what could be easily changed, even though it is
more than inconvenient for me and vexes me.
the table is jammed right next to
the twin windows. the view from one window is quite nice. i get to look into
the back of the house across the alley from us. sometimes i see lights coming
on or off in the upstairs room, but i haven't seen any of the people who live
there. i have to be careful when walking around naked since i am sure they
can see me too. the other window right next to the first looks on to a brick
wall which is part of the apartment next door. i can look through into the
apt. next door's window and see my friend and his girlfriends talking or when
the curtains down fucking. i can also look upon a solitary tree which grows
in our neighbors backyard. the radiator is right below the window. i've
turned it off and turned the one in the bathroom on, since they are hot as
hell. my telephone reposes precariously on a box full of previous writings
with the answering machine lying on the radiator. this setup is necessitated
by the phone jack being in that corner of the room.
i did not setup my room
like most traditional people would do. arranging their furniture and
possessions into patterns which they like. when i moved in all i wanted to do
was get away from where i was previously and get away from myself. i didn't
care about the room. basically, the room has transmorgified over time. i
moved stuff around to have room to walk about diagonally. i piled boxes on
top of boxes or opened them and left them there. i haven't cleaned the room
since i moved in.
READER'S REVIEWS (2) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"are you writing in your journal??????? be succinct and allow the reader to use his or her imagnination by infusing their feelings into your words....there will be more of a connection for the both of you......." -- PJ.
"Sunny boy you sound like a young boy who probably left home, were mum dear done everything for your. The Weed comes into your story again. It what all young boys experiment and it goes to for the mags you mention. A young boy trying to be independent and trying to grow up. Yes, l agree boys are messy, they like beinging waited on. Life is not just about drugs, sex ect. Clean your act up, clean your life up - But still, l see your point of view and your ways of living it. " -- sweety, Ont., Canada.
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