Browsing best of craigslist while my brother blasts his music, but it's okay because it's better than the Christian rock I have to listen to from another roommates room.
The house is chaos and I live in this world, it ***** me in and spits me back. It affects my personal relationship with the outside world, people come on it and get trapped in the time warp. There is no other reality, and outside of this house no one knows, what goes on inside.

My basement room is dark, cave like, and I squint my eyes as I write this because the Christmas lights that were given to gleam over my head and make the space around me pink. I look in the corner of my eye, and there is my pathetic lamp that doesn't really even light the corner. All of this I accept, I even become accustomed to the lack of light.

You ever google “roommates that are douches” or “nightmare roommates”?...that sounds about right, right? Everything listed is very apparent in this house. We all are just living together, separated and oddly together. Getting high, getting low and getting all hyped up and eventually in each others faces, struggling to not let go and make it crazy, because we all came from crazy and we're currently battling the current monsters that live inside our head.

Some of us have diagnosis, while others obsessively google their symptoms, thinking up illnesses, while others have true deadly illnesses and trying to wash away the days without poisoning ourselves. Poison feels good when it comes down, it's as if you are doing something bad to your body but it feels so good, and eventually you fall into a mood, whether it be anxiety or true following bliss you know that this is within your body and it is something you have come to accept.

Remember that one time when I asked you if you remembered what happened way back when?
I forget what your answer was then,
but I remember how much it meant to me to be reminiscing with the Queen of Forgetting.

Remember when you used to care about memories?

And we went careening down streets while screaming in a mix of anxiety and exhilaration.
Each day blending with the next; driving past every chance we had to turn back,
living as if we were on a never-ending vacation.

Remember when you used to have fun? When fun was number one and everything else was boring?

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And when the Duchess of puking tried to kiss the Archduke of Douches.
Our toes a familiar sight while seeing double.
How we used to recite unrecyclable verses while climbing into the back seats of hearses.

Remember when we used to actually talk about things? No, not like this. I mean, passionately. Remember when we used to get so heated about a topic that we'd practically be screaming at each other?

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And swinging through trees that we'd climbed against better judgement;
passing under streetlights that painted haloes around our dark heads.

Remember when you used to laugh in a way that didn't sound frantic? When your grin didn't look so much like a grimace?

And going to public places in broad daylight just to read the faces of those who couldn't see beyond their own noses?

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And looking at our toes and hitting pavement but then bouncing up again to get caught in the hurricane of everyones' perceptions of what was happening

How to Board Up Your Windows After They're Already Broken

Remember when you used to make genuine human connections with other people?

just to find ourselves in the Eye of the Storm, staring at each other, grinning in a way that isn't frightened or frightening;
Laughing in the way that isn't desperate or forced, but hearing it get warped by the howl of wind surrounding us.

Remember

How to

Wind that's closing in.

In the most ferocious winter storms,
there are people of honor
who will share their gloves.
During times of war,
some children continue to dream.
When famine strikes,
old men find the will
to be generous.
In a mall parking lot,
drivers will ram you to death
for a spot ten feet closer
to the door.

Le Printemps est évident, car
Du coeur des Propriétés vertes,
Le vol de Thiers et de Picard
Tient ses splendeurs grandes ouvertes !

Ô Mai ! quels délirants culs-nus !
Sèvres, Meudon, Bagneux, Asnières,
Ecoutez donc les bienvenus
Semer les choses printanières !

Ils ont shako, sabre et tam-tam,
Non la vieille boîte à bougies,
Et des yoles qui n'ont jam, jam...
Fendent le lac aux eaux rougies !

Plus que jamais nous bambochons
Quand arrivent sur nos tanières
Crouler les jaunes cabochons
Dans des aubes particulières !

Thiers et Picard sont des Eros,
Des enleveurs d'héliotropes ;
Au pétrole ils font des Corots :
Voici hannetonner leurs tropes...

Ils sont familiers du Grand Truc !...
Et couché dans les glaïeuls, Favre
Fait son cillement aqueduc,
Et ses reniflements à poivre !

La grand ville a le pavé chaud
Malgré vos douches de pétrole,
Et décidément, il nous faut
Vous secouer dans votre rôle...

Et les Ruraux qui se prélassent
Dans de longs accroupissements,
Entendront des rameaux qui cassent
Parmi les rouges froissements !

Panic buuyyyyy
paniiic buyyyyyy
go on!

Then none of us
worth any of us
will get anywhere

douches

Never going back to them
Maybe they found some new
But I’m not alone to stand
By my side I have two!

Double-faced ****, I’m so much done!
I like it step-by-step, let them run!

Swagger, moody, attitude and beauty,
If that’s all you find in your goofy-looking friend,
Then he hasn’t got any of them
Except for an always-helping hand!

Try not to be a melting-kinda-dude
These bums are always secretively rude,
And try not to exceed your goodness and generosity
Douches take advantage very quick and rapidly!

All you can do is cry in a corner
These pretentious-creatures would always make you a loner!
So let them go to hell and tell them “you’re faking it!”
There once existed a good bond and now “you’re breaking it!” They will meet the same fate or maybe they’re so tame,
But don’t let them judge you, or call you boring and lame!

Never ask or plead to be someone’s own
You’ve never believed yourself but you can do a lot alone! “Utkarsh Upadhyay”

Trying to fill the void
In some really bad places
Trying to feel whole
With all the wrong faces

It’s making me feel more empty
Men only want me for ***
I just want to find Prince Charming
Instead of douches like my Ex

Why am I such an attention *****?
Needing men for validation
I want a true love story
Instead of constant damnation

The talented do not sit in playgrounds
having tantrums and throwing brick-bats
they leave absurdities and silliness to those dregs
who are the douches at the back and are the class dunces
they are always disruptive trying to hide their obvious ignorance
lacking care and attention fearful and insecure they hate the talented