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Keith J Collard Jan 2013
Resident Facebook by Keith Collard

{remnants of a blood and ice coffee stained diary}


23april1996,

Been working at this mansion for at least four months now. Fellow co-workers are friendly enough. The pharmeceutical researchers are very pompous with their exact demands. Im in charge of the food storage and refridgeration for the mansion. It is the only modernly powered facet of this mansion. Besides the labs in the basement(from which I only heard).


26april1996,

This mansion is too creepy, the architect designed the living quarter and main facade of the mansion in a 1920 neo gothic fashion--with gas lamps and gothic paintings. Every device, even the typewriters in the mansion are old fashioned mechanical. A top researcher told me in casual conversation that these doors and clocks are more durable than current electronic means, built in the same fashion as the pyramids and stonehenge--he was pointing out all the clocks and engraved doors in the dining hall as he was speaking,while I was putting out the food. He's the usual eccentric for as these researchers go, he told me the company president paid him to design classical mantraps along the mansion and guardhouse to keep workers from straying, encrypted with runes and riddles as keys(some odd ducks).


2may1996,

Mansion workers were given each a laptop today by the head researcher Albert Wesker. This guy is like the James Bond of scientists, dashing and suave with a 9mm berreta at his side(wish we were allowed guns). He wears sunglasses--even at night. He said they experimented with a comunications app the scientists have been using to communicate expeiremental data. The only app available on there is something called Facebook, which the scientists call "fbproto."


5may1996,

The f.bproto is neat, we can watch movies , talk to eachother, and to workers at the pharmaceutical's sister facilities. Everything is monitored by the companies security admins Ive heard. The company will be holding raffles via f.bproto for staffers who could win a chance to participate in "beneficial lab trials" from ***** extension treatment to magnetic wave reducing therapy. Sounds unappealing to me...I put my name down on the site just in case.


6 may1996,Been talking to girl who works in sanitation department underneath the guardhouse, her name is Ada, she said there was an important goverment official flying in to the helipad today. She is pretty cute, and one bright light in this shadowy mansion. message from company, we should join democratic party on fbproto. whatever they say,they're the scientists.


10may1996,

Been stayin up too late posting on f.bproto,the company is posting alot of links, of visual images and sentences I don't quite understand. Ben from mansion cleanin services keeps hitting on Ada,I want to defriend him but want to know what he's doing. I put my cat in fbproto company pic contest,with everyone else who was given lab pets by the scientists, I put little gloves on her paws--Im sure to win.


11may1996,

Karl sent me a message on fbproto that he saw a researcher go into his room, and never saw him leave, and when he went to clean his room the researcher was not in there. This mansion is creepy, I mean a statue of a woman cutting her own throat with the inscription "only death shall set you free,"is that a little gloomy or what. fan of smiley faces on fbproto.;)


12 may 1996

man, the doors are like eight inches thick, solid wood, I locked myself out of my room and tried to shoulder the door in. Well, the door with its inlaid wood carving just laughed at me, it resembles a dragon or snake or someshit with two fern looking wings, red and blue. Spooooky stuff. I had to go get the security admin for the mansion staff living quarters. He unlocked the door, and told me that all the doors are solid oak. I asked him what the words at the bottom of serpent meant, he said it says in latin “ the two wings of the beast are red and blue.” I asked him what the hell that means, he says he didn’t know, but that it has to do with the research the scientists are doing.

I stayed up almost all night on fbproto, at first because my shoulder was killing me, but then it went away, and I kept finding myslelf with a ciqerette in my fingers all the way burnt down and my skin charred, geez, fbproto really takes your mind off things, especially this mansion which reminds me of a sepulcre. That Dan thinks he’s hot stuff, posting himself in his living quarters in the guard house, which is better than the mansion staffs. He get’s to go to the guardhouse recreation room, his profile pic is a bottle of Johnny Walker Red in it’s high end package that looks like a coffin, that him and the guards won at dart’s. It’s not hard to win that when Albert Wesker is on your team, that guy sunk three darts WilliamTell style into the bull’s eye. He tagged me in the picture of the Johnny Walker, *******.


13 may 1996

Locked myself in the walk in freezer today by accident, forgot the code….a researcher let me out finally, and asked if I was alright, I said I was fine, he just looked at me curiously. I was in there to clean out these blue vines, that kept on growing into the ducts and stuff, kept on turning the temperature down. But I won’t lie, I had my laptop with me to pass time, but after a while I couldn’t scroll down because my fingers stopped working , so I pressed the keyboard with my tongue. Ada’s pictures kept me warm, oh how I love her…..I want her so bad.


13may1996

Had a dream about the helicopter ride in and how the dense forest resembled a corpse’s face as we flew past it fast overhead. We touched down on the helipad, and there were dead bodies in the razor wire, they were shaking as if they were in a laughing frenzy from the rotor wash of the helicopter. Then as I entered the main façade (my footstep's echos on the tile seemed to walk away and disapear into the mansion)and stepped on the black and white checkered hall floor, Albert Wesker was there, and he was nicely dressed as a bartender or sumthin, and he asked if " I wanted a ****** mary," and he was squeezing a heart into the glass, then I looked down and there was a hole in my chest where my heart was supposed to be. Then there was a giant ice coffee and dancing with a mirror to moonlight sonata….****** stuff, this mansion is getting to me.


14may1996

dan is such a ****, keeps posting pics of himself shirtless, he was given some experimental hormone from a researcher and is relleshing in it It was some form of energy drink called Red Bull.

Him and Ada are talking more. Message from company to like republican party page(whatever)Daves three eyed frog won fbproto pic contest,grrrr.


15may1996,

there's been more accidents in the mansion and in the labs below. Fred from the kitchen staff cut off his fingers today,and Ive heard through Chris' post that someone fell into the live feed area where they feed animals to their experiments. Bob put his fbproto password(instead of mansioncode) into the mechanical lock at the observatory springing a trap of spikes that spiked his hand to his head and his head to the wall, the featherduster was still in his hand(or face).;(


16may1996,

the scientist with the always grave look has disapeared, the guards said he transferred,but a fellow researcher said he was fired, shame, I liked him.

There is a plant living in my radiator, keeps growing vine-like tendrils, and is turning up the heat...230 friends on f.bproto,woot woot.


17may1996,

the company is handing out promotional ice coffee that they created in the labs to staffers via f.bproto,I wasn't picked, dang,its said to give you "10x human energy and vitality".I became a fan of Backstreet Boys on f.bproto.


18may1996,

karl found a memo from the missing researcher under his bed when he was cleaning out his room, sent me a message via f.bproto,it read that the researcher concluded that the f.b proto had negative effects on living tissue, decreased brain function,increased tendencies for violence,and not worth the sublimal control contract with the goverment, and that both pre-cambrian ferns pose to much liability for a biohazard and show signs of sentience.........hmm,im up to 300 friends now.


19 may 1996,

more accidents in mansion, Albert Wesker sent message to staffers that he was just promoted to Head of Security,and that if anybody is caught leaving the premises they will be shot. I wouldn't even dare to go out in the surrounding forest, I hear the wild dogs howlin all night amid those dense woods.just became a fan of Ace of base, they are awesome.


20may 1996,

my roomate looks like a hot messs, his skin looks pale with black blotches and he has pitch black circles underneath eyes, he's been taking the labs new painkillers, man he should change his profile pic. I poked Ada.


21 may 1996

message from f.bproto, "outside guards replaced by Hunters.".....man, def would not go out there now, I fed one of those ape reptile thingy's live feed the other day( Phil went missing, I had to do his job, always doing other peoples work), and the feed for that day was a cow, and this thing just poked the cow to death with its razor claws.

Everyone of those brute raptor things have a skeleton key has their middle razor claw, a researcher said they can hear every door open and shut in the mansion, " If you see one, turn around and go out the door you came, if you enter a door your not supposed to, well....." he didn't finish what he was saying, only walked off muttering "what have I done....".....I friend requested him on fbproto, his last post was "god forgive me." His profile pic was his mansion room, with replicas of insects and a fishtank(that is rumoured to be a model of a giant one in the basement). He disapeared soon after and his fbproto was deactivated.

Joined Labville on fbproto.;)


22may1996,

message from company, the labs are combining expieramental ice coffee,painkillers,and steroids,anyone on f.bproto can partake, and we should document how we feel and what we do on fbproto multiple times a day. Took a pic of myself shirtless, can see spine coming thru skin, and I keep catching the red plant from the radiator posing in the background, or giving me bunny ears......grrrrrrrr.;(


23may1996

went to smoke a spleef on the stone balcony, near the greeen house over looking the forest the other night, they grow all kinds of red and blue marjiauna there.....but there was one of those reptile hunter things, standing guard there, blocking the path, it screamed and almost blew my eardrums out, " okey dokie" I said, and slowly backed away and left......friggin nazis these pharmaceutical people are.

I got rid of the Labville app on fbproto, that game is too hard, I keep running out of butlers to feed my experiments, and my humans keep escaping into the woods. But mostly, Im sick of seeing

Albert Wesker's name with the highest score everytime I play......



25may1996,

Ben said he saw a handfull of scientists and guards on the helipad taking a chopper out. There is more plants decorating the halls, no one knows who put them there, some rooms are blazing hot, others are ice cold. Ben said to not go to the library, everyone who went upstairs to that room has not returned, that the blue ones have took over the cobblestone path to the courtyard where the armory is. Said he saw Kevin in the tangles running up the stone wall on the side, he had a vine going in his mouth and coming out his eye; and he said that the researchers call the red ones "evaginates," for how they trap and slowly eat you(sounds ******). Im not on Ada's top friends list anymore, angry.


26may1996,

the mansion is awash in accidents and fighting, roomate looks like zombie, others look like reptilian muscled gorillaz, others just a blur they move so fast.eyes hurt from staring at f.b proto. Moaning alot. everyone is playing "I Saw the sign" from Ace of Base. Vines keep stealing my hat, and eating people.


25...,

no food, ate cat,mittens and both hearts,gas lights out, dark,everyone walking around with laptops to see,blue fbproto reflections on walls.fml.


2aprol

took chris' ice cofee and killed ben before he took steroids,lol,ate steroids,no one cooking food, getting hungry,guards came,ate em.....bullet hole in my chest......chaaange f.bproto profile pic to facee....my quote is mooohaha... just. saying


23...,

feel strong, fast,gruntin alot, hungry, no food, ate carl, ate red plant, carved him with my skeleton clah....I hate mondays was post on f.bproto,yum ice cofee.


43

oooohhhh, lol,lol, top ada friend list, ,ate benny...b.esisde armpits....he stink.....roarrrrr......oohhh....bullel wond in cheeek....see benny in thar......moving quick......hunman bones everyware....stain carpits....helicupter....mur guards......no.....pulice.....wesker is wit em....ace of base now.....bed of blud..I wit...fur em.....fbproto sez **** starssss ......


2..........rooooooahhhhh,yum, ohhhhhhh,lol,raohh.fml............[rest of transcript unintelligible]
Styles Jan 2023
Walking past your bedroom, I hear faint whispers of deep breathing. The sounds grew louder, as I approached the room. I put my ear to the door and heard panting. Accidently, it starts to push further open, revealing her, across the room lying on the bed naked, with both of your hands between your legs, playing…
let me know in the comments if you want a part 3
Styles Jan 2023
Walking past your bedroom, I hear faint whispers of deep breathing. The sounds grew louder, as I approached the room. I put my ear to the door and heard panting. Accidently, it starts to push further open, revealing her, across the room lying on the bed naked, with both of your hands between your legs, playing…
let me know in the comments if you want a part 2
Chad Chumley May 2014
We stopped talking weeks ago
except for the occasional “hi”.

How I wished we could’ve hung out more and been friends.
For some reason you stayed in your bedroom
Every time you were here.

You’ve moved out without a “goodbye”.

If we meet in the future I’m sure it won’t be more than a “hi”
if even that.

My friend you’re gone
in your lonesomeness
with no ears for me,
escaping conversation
so that you may fulfill your desire.
Styles May 29
In this moment, I am both an observer and a participant, feeling every ounce of her pleasure as if it were my own. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us in this private, electric connection, where every sigh and moan feels like a secret shared between lovers.
It was confused and dark, dark, so dark,
dark like when Charlie got drunk for the first time, came back, and stumbled-open the door long after Sam had screamed at everyone to leave her the f--- alone.  

And Jesse is standing there, swaying slightly with the beer and the pounding music, and Charlene feels her ribcage shiver with each bass beat.  The pale light oozing off the stage silvers Jesse’s angled face like water, soaks the black shapes around her, pools in each eye as the constant ripple and shudder of the crowd shifts her hips.  Somehow her thin, bare shoulders speak her excitement, and in the dim shuffle of the audience she’s half drunk and lovely.  “You know that calc test is tomorrow,” Charlene screams over the straight roar of chaos. “Don’t remind me! God!” Lovely Jesse laughs and her hand sketches a lazy gun that jerks at her head -- don’t remind me, God don’t don’t don’t --  and Charlene clenches her eyes shut and still that flashes, dark dark dark, her loose-jointed fingers flicking up, twitching in sickening unison with her mocking head, again again again-- don’t remind me, God,
don’t remindmegoddon’t remind megod god oh God,
Sam loved drinking herself sick, stumbling home with her arm ‘round Charlie’s neck, slurring alcohol love and despair to her ‘bes’ fren, besh’ roomate evr, Charlene a.k.a. Charlie.  And “a.k.a.” as Sam loved to call her, was always there to pick Sam up and clean Sam up and sober Sam the **** up.  And every stupid drunk party night that semester she told Charlie over and over again: ‘listen, a.k.a., here’s a funny story: a girl went to buy her mother aspirin cause her mother had a terrible ******* headache and she bought some from her dear second cousin Kurt the cashier who was a trublueblooded Eagle scout mama’s boy back from college, that sonofabitch and she came home, but her momma didn’t have that headache anymore and gave her a mostly delicious popsicle and it was red strawberry, the end.’  And every stupid drunk party night that semester Charlie watched and listened as Sam made up new stories about aspirin (always ending with popsicles).
See, Charlie was always there. Charlie never drank.  And Charlie, she always listened to the stupid f---ing drunk-strawberry-popsicle story.  And Charlie never gave a **** about Sam, did she? She sure didn’t, no, Charlie didn’t.  

“I’m gonna go find the bathroom” Charlie screams into Jesse’s ear and plunges out into the sea of dark shadows circling her.  The door struggles open, then she’s crushing it shut, crushing splinters into her palms, she’s bending over the counter, both hands white-pressed onto its imitation marble, choking down these sharp sparks of nausea bursting like fireworks inside, and the music’s faded out, its just the thud of that ******* drum that pulses over and over and over --god stop it-- fills the room, rattles the stalls, over and over and Charlie’s convinced its a heartbeat, its Sam’s heartbeat, thud thud thud, god its going on and on and pounding, OH GOD, charlie screams, IT STOPPED, no no no no SAM no SAM SAM SAM OH GOD it stopped no no GOD
next song. drum starts again. and the room is inside of the drum, it is the inside, the taut air’s quivering with each beat, taut ribcage quivering with each beat. Charlie is inside a drum. beat beat beat drumbeat heartbeat thud, thud, thud,
god I look awful, Charlie’s looking at her face in the dim vibrating mirror: blue shadows under her dull eyes, pale, dead-tired, dead-drunk, and so f---ing dead-alive,
she goes back to Jesse, wriggling through the black lumps: lovers making out, heavy spellbound listeners, uneasy loners, angry drunks, drunk as-- drunk as Charlie’s first drunk night.

Sam was so ****** that night and Charlie dragged her home to their dorm, sick of Sam’s tangy alcohol breath and her sagging, skinny weight on her shoulder. “I’m sick of your breath, Sam.” sick of it, god Sam, just stop it, wish that breath would go away, I mean,
it was blowing all over my cheek Sam, cause your **** beautiful face was lying on my neck-- that’s why I said that, I didn’t mean that, Sam.

And then you said ‘well, all right Charlie, I’ll tell you a funny story Charlie,’ and I said ‘oh god Sam, not again,’ and you said ‘no, its different this time’ and you said ‘one day there was a little girl who went to the store to buy aspirin for her mom and the cashier took her into the back of the store and hurt her and she came home and told her mom and her mom slapped her and told her to stop talking ***** and shut the **** up and then that little girl’s throat sure did ache, Charlie, even after a popsicle it did. And Charlie, Charlie, a.k.a. Charlene, sure did hate her breath. see, that’s my story and isn’t it a funny story...”
you drop your drunk roommate on the gritty hallway carpet, give her the key say
‘’bye Samantha", goodbye samgoodbye, bye bye Sam, "I’m going to go get drunk don’t be too much of a ***** while I’m gone.’

floormates told Charlie later that Sam screamed at everyone “hey, all you motherf---ers, leave me the f--- alone,” then laughed, slammed the door. and they did leave her alone.
Charlie came back *****-drunk, touched the doorknob and heard the shot, the door opens,
Sam’s falling and Charlie watches her beautiful, bony wrist flick back as she gets blood all over and ruins her face and Charlie sobers up really f---ing fast.  She always was good at that.
There's a note on the desk in Crayola washable marker (purple): "well, a.k.a., I guess I am being way too much of a ***** while you’re gone. you’re welcome. sorry for ******* it all up again as usual"
*Thanks for that Sam, thanks a lot Sam thanks thanks f--- you
I wanted to write a short story in a realistic voice other than mine, so here's a hard, obscene, despairing 20 yr. old?  Its pretty dark... not sure if I like it, but it was interesting and different to write.
Styles May 29
As I watch, a part of me wants to step into the room, to be a part of this intimate scene, to feel the heat of her skin and the intensity of her passion up close. But I stay rooted to the spot, captivated by the beauty and vulnerability before me, my own breath syncing with hers, the space between us charged with unspoken desire.
Styles May 29
The way her fingers move, deft and confident, sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t tear my eyes away, drawn in by the rhythm of her movements and the soft, intoxicating sounds escaping her lips. Every touch seems to ignite her more, her body arching and trembling in response.
Styles May 29
My breath catches as I take in the sight, an unexpected rush of heat spreading through my body. Her eyes are closed, lost in the pleasure she’s giving herself, completely unaware of my presence. I feel a mix of awe and desire, mesmerized by the raw intimacy of the moment.
Kimmy-Nichole Jul 2011
so this just in.
last night, after a grueling  day of nanny-ing, I went to  the davis consignment store and broused around   finding some numerous  cute tops and shorts as well as purchasing 2 new books to add to my reading collection ( i just finished the time travelers wife.)
so than  around 4pm  I  was heading to B st  where I   was meeting with my future roomate, who by the was amazingly nice and pretty and has a boyfriend and turns 21 in september. Im so excited to leave parkside apts - living in north davis is such a drag. Central Davis here I come  ( Ill be living   5 minutes to  UC davis, an amazing arbotreum, pools, the davis Arc and frat  row and party city. This is going to be the best thing  that has happened to me.)
So after that  I went back to my  apt  and as giddly as ever, called my mom to  tell her my amazing roomate  news.   ( mY moms finally really proud of me. I am working 2 full time jobs as a nanny  from 8:30 am  to 2:30 pm than my night nanny job  4:30 pm to 5:30 am except on wed thur fridays.)
so it being my night off, i   figured why not go out.  so my apartment neighbor whom i met at the gym friend jesse who is 29, studied as a foreign exchange student in finland for a year, gotten a dui, is a davis townie, went to a  college called will-am-eit  and was in a fraternity out there. he is fun to go out with and bar hop in downtown with; the last time i was  out with jesse, i went to a bar called sophias than later on met up with my ex crush who is this charming dbag from winters named chad and got fun drunk. Well in aims for that spirit again we started off  by drinking and laughing at my apt . we decided to go lay out by the hot tub  and drank beer  being sillly kids. we decided to hit up downtown davis for this bar called the grad. It was beach themed  country line dancing night. Yeah , being alone because  your friend is off showing off his line dancing with precision kinda moves and meeting line dancing babes in bikinis ...awkward for sure. so amungst bying my own 2 beers which were hand picked by my big  and sure of himself bartender, which eventually  led to my  very  interesting night of drunken madness. It kicked off on as previously mentioned on the way to the grad which lead to me leaving with this older woman in a cab to another bar that was supposed to be more enertaining.  I ended up forgetting my id at the grad, my phone was dead and to top it all off  i didnt know anyone s number at the top of my head.  i decided to take matters in to my own feet and chose to hoof it back to my apt on f street. god, what a long and stupering night that was.  when i finally made it, out of exhaustion and drunkness , i  collided onto my neighbors couch still in    last nights outfit. karla  woke me up at 7 :30 and i showered  feeling super ****** and groggy , i couldnt eat or drink. I had work at 8:30. not feeling so hot, i was slowly getting through the day. the kids and i all layed on and under blankets and stuffed animals, and i told stories. it was really cute and relaxing. i love those kids.prior to that i threw up. after that it was time to drop off timothy at therapy, than abigail and abraham at speech therapy. I threw up in the bathroom, and on the sideof the minivan in front of ruth and timothy. ugh.    
so  than after i talked to my neighbor  slash ex boyfriend patrick about getting in connection with a a herb that helps me feel better by increasing my appittie and helping me sleep. he provided wth that special  herb. while sitting and smoking, i felt the spark that we used to have. i confessed to sleeping with a guy i met in newport two weeks ago on the fourth of july when i went back home. patrick told me he has hooked up with this slutty townie girl, and i wish them both std free happyness.

here i am typing away , getting sleepier and sleepier. Tonight will be a  early night indeed. i love my new spirit and i love who i am. i love where i am going. i will not exceed more alcohol than my tiny light weight body can handle.. Well it feels good to write. i know i must get back on that writing more often. until next time,
-Kimmy
Filmore Townsend Dec 2012
[ final, before flight ]
learnt through dusty feet
and stomachs growlin’ their
dyin’ growls. days and weeks
with leakin’ roof, and
nature’s bountiful army
marchin’ on and through.
candle-lit synthetic canvas
absorbin’ fired raditation,
*** upon baked ground
starin’ at drunken fire pit –
conversed two hours, and
with dawn one side meld’d
in the dancin’ orange and reds.
walk’d macadame, in full June
the tar bubbled to the surface
and patch’d holed soles –
surfaced skin, turn’d black.
graveyard of gypsum;
burnt out child’s playground;
horse protectin’ territory, or life;
pawnin’ everything not bolt’d down –
death of materialism,
birth of a ******* mentality.
bought Black-and-Milds so to
reroll a few cigarettes,
save wood tip for later use.
save everything for later use,
stash everything for later use.
stab’d in stupidity and
made to mend the wound with
worries of:
   will i use this hand again?
[ C ]
cryin’ for Annie, cryin’ out,
knowin’ she will return without
my concern. knowin’ she’s
probably rummagin’
through some neighbor’s house.
cryin’ out. cryin’ out.
lyin’ down on pallet’d floor,
gettin’ usher’d out so
she could ****.
[ A ]
mouse detectives on VHS,
an awkward glance at left –
all the signs, none of the glory.
misdirectin’ for no reason,
reappearin’ without reason,
disappearin’ for every reason.
[ T ]
road impart’d day’s heat
through all the night, and
moon lit unknown paths.
cryin’ out, peddlin’ faster,
carryin’ weight in
hope at final penance.
no penance.
[ O ]
an artist’s rush,
turn’d paper to masterpiece
with seemin’ lack of effort.
stole heart, keel’d in, cast off to
placebo girl in roomate’s bed.

- - - abrupt ending
Invocation Jul 2014
We have oddly sticky hands
oil, dust and sugar
newspaper ink and ceramic chips
feet track on moldy rug
broken glass and rusty circles raise the question
peeking into past lives of
each room
salvage ex-roomate's ex-girlfriend's
shampoo body wash flatiron dishes

we make a shrine to spools of thread
little lion man and plastic pans
real tuesday weld and smoke with KC
won't you hold my hand?

Let's overthink dating for a night
I will try to be by your side
my rougey lips are for you
and the moon
thank you
jennifer ann Jan 2015
Cassie walked up the stairs and into her new room, her new roomate sitting on the bed and writing in her journal. her long black hair in a side braid, wearing a purple flannel jacket and ripped jeans. "guess who i just met? you're not gonna believe it." cassie said, almost singing. "who?" Emily rolled her eyes. "madison montgomery, she gave me her autography and everything." cassie joyfuly explained. "madison montgomery? isn't she like some grade d lifetime movie actress or something? what is she doing here?" Emily shook her head and rolled her eyes as she doodled a picture on the notepad. "that cuts me deeply that you would say that about madison, she's my friend you know." Cassie touched her cheast, as if she had been cut by this very deeply. "okay?" Emily shook her head "she is a witch like us and is most certainly NOT  a grade d actress." cassie explained.  "i really like it here, you know? i never really had friends at my old highschool.. everyone thought i was weird or annoying." Cassie sighed. "did they?" emily replied sarcasticly. "well yea, thats why i had to get rid of all of them. " cassie sighed once again, shaking her head and staring into space. " sometimes i lay awake and i can still hear them." Emilys eyes and mouth widened as she looked up from her notebook very slowly. "what do you mean, you got rid of them?" Emily asked. "ohhh nevermind..! it's a really long story and i come out looking pretty bad in it" Cassie giggled, making emilys stomache turn.  her eyes still wide and filled with fear.
Michaela Tripp Nov 2013
they told me not to sip too much from the solo cups
if I didn’t want to get ***** tonight.
the feminist issue here is not keeping up
but keeping low, keeping unnoticed, 
staying as safe as that moldy orange in the Safeway,
never gonna get plucked up and ***** that way.


they told me not to indulge my senses and enhance my intoxication 
levels at risk of decreasing my chances of 
survival against a ******
attacking me.


they told me I feel like I need to keep up with the guys with my drinks,
match my stack of cups to theirs, and I just think 
that’s *******, I just want to drink my ****** beer,
but they said that’s how I’ll get *****
well maybe I binge on a lot of bad habits.
I pile them up on the CVS counter like a checklist of things not to do

smoke, spend too much money and time on ebay bidding on
vintage rings and things I’ll never need, eat a row of oreos out of
my roomate’s care package,
and drink too much at the occasional
party where I fraternize with the males from planet greek,
but does that make me guilty for getting *****?


today I woke up feeling like a damaged cause,
like a present that fell out of the back door of a UPS truck going 
75 miles per hour on the highway in East Tennessee
and I never got to my destination.
should I have buckled my seat belt tighter?


society makes me feel crazy for thinking I can try to prevent
a violent act of maddening hate against a woman’s body,
or maybe a man’s, let’s not discriminate,
brought on by alcohol, late night musing, and punch bowl brewing.

maybe they should tell the rapists to keep their pants zipped 
and their ***** to themselves unless they are requested.

keep your hands in your pastel short pockets and 
let me go on with my business of being a proud, righteous woman.
Lieve Nov 2015
The last times I wore a french braid:

17, laying on my stomach in the psychiatric intensive care unit, (adolescent)
I reach for my hair, and let them grow tired,
tirelessly overlapping the strands until the entire mass is taken care of.
I stay on my stomach,
I try not to move too much or the orderlies will think I'm at it again.
A few days later, in the unit common room, my new roomate has me sit in front of her.
She runs fingers through, twists and playfully tugs she says if we hadn't met here she'd be in love.
I agree.
Still braided by her delicate hands my hair flicks as we giggle together into the early hours of my 18th birthday,
sipping at ***** dipped pepsi she had her sister sneak in.
The nurses chant "this isn't a sleepover! Get back to your beds!"
But we are kids,
So we feast on the cookies and crackers I'd been shoving down my pants at mealtimes then she waits patiently as I purge them.
We make blood sister bonds in our skin with razorblades and she braids my hair one last time before they move me to the adult ward. Because I was no longer a kid.
So the next day I cut it off.
I cut it off the next year too.
And half way through the next I cut it again,
keeping my hair just out of braiding reach,
Just out of length of fingers running through,
twisting and playfully tugging,
I like it a mess, so they won't fall in love with me anymore.
Braidless, I can stay distant, unattached like the feeble, overdyed locks matting on my head, but I can feel it growing every second

20, I lay on my stomach, hospital bedsheets unruffled in starch allegiance,
Reach behind my head and see if it's long enough, and I braid.
Jules Wilson Oct 2013
they told me not to sip too much from the solo cups
if I didn’t want to get ***** tonight.
the feminist issue here is not keeping up
but keeping low, keeping unnoticed,
staying as safe as that moldy orange in the Safeway,
never gonna get plucked up and ***** that way.

they told me not to indulge my senses and enhance my intoxication
levels at risk of decreasing my chances of
survival against a ******
attacking me.

they told me I feel like I need to keep up with the guys with my drinks,
match my stack of cups to theirs, and I just think
that’s *******, I just want to drink my ****** beer,
but they said that’s how I’ll get *****.

well maybe I binge on a lot of bad habits.
I pile them up on the CVS counter like a checklist of things not to do,
smoke, spend too much money and time on ebay bidding on
vintage rings and things I’ll never need, eat a row of oreos out of
my roomate’s care package, and drink too much at the occasional
party where I fraternize with the males from planet greek,
but does that make me guilty for getting *****?

today I woke up feeling like a damaged cause,
like a present that fell out of the back door of a UPS truck going
75 miles per hour on the highway in East Tennessee
and I never got to my destination.
should I have buckled my seat belt tighter?

society makes me feel crazy for thinking I can try to prevent
a violent act of maddening hate against a woman’s body,
or maybe a man’s, let’s not discriminate,
brought on by alcohol, late night musing, and punch bowl brewing.
maybe they should tell the rapists to keep their pants zipped
and their ***** to themselves unless they are requested.
keep your hands in your pastel short pockets and
let me go on with my business of being a proud, righteous woman.
http://www.slate.com/articles/double_x/doublex/2013/10/sexual_assault_and_drinking_teach_women_the_connection.html
My roommate sat reading terry Pratchett
on our patchwork couch
Covered in my grandmothers quilt
as i boiled water
to make americanos for us
with the aeropress i just bought
her for christmas
It was her only gift this year
Our christmas tree wasn't up yet.
we put that up about three months after everyone else took theirs down
we watched the water drip
Like clockwork from the veins in the lime wallpaper
Collecting in her blind cats water dish
Which lapped happily before tripping over a mis-placed buhhda statue.
my roomate closes her book to say:

"being polyamorous is something you should only try is you are amazing at organization and have a fettish for complicated things."

By the time I heard her say this,
I had been trying to juggle hearts for quite awhile
I must admit my dexterity wasn't high enough
To roll without dropping a few
it's hard when hearts are never the same size
Or weight, or color.
I would be a better librarian.
organizing the hearts
Holding them just long enough to capture and
Stick on a shelf somewhere
That must be why I write so much poetry.
We got the ocean breeze and the seven seas.
humming birds and buzzing bees
plant's and creatures
the beauty features .
farmers armer's and those midnight charmers
we have food not hard to search for,
kids who have to line at  church door's  
         there'e are stores to by our sneekers others off to be a tweeker.
we get clean drinks with out no kinks it's the U.S.A with out no pay.
with a clean head, and a nice bed.
some call it lucky to live in a shed...
a different country roomate with a monkey ,
roof made of hay the dirt bed a lay.
we live like survivors , we search for our dinners , how is it made to be u.s.a winners?
with you're cool cars and movie stars,
you get ocupied ,
             and well supplied...
what a cool plate i'd wish for in fate
you have you're singers we eat with our fingers.
you roll those dice and hope for some nice,
lets go find dinner and cope with some rice....
Look who's at bat and serving at war,
                           you're lifes just so hard with you're  one choor.
      I want MY MONEY!!!
                                                            HA!
                                                                                             thats ****'s just funny...

_---Look at this world--
                                         with a breef glance ,
                                                                           Think of it more then some school dance.
Legion Jul 2013
You can't toy with me anymore;
I love you.
Your ploys aren't going to work anymore;
I love you.

No more beating around the bush.
No more thinking you can pull and push
My heart

I love you.
There, now it's out in the open.
I love you.
My words are my only token

That I love you.........................

I wake up sweating
My sheets are drenched from my dream.
My dream..........

I see you now;
All the walls are back between us.
Living like friends
When we know there could be more.

I'm back in my bed
Lying on the sheets I still haven't washed.
Thinking of the pain
matched only by my feelings.

........................................

Once again I'm in a dream
I see you off in the distance
I want to run to you and hug you
Like I've done so many times before

But I stop short
And walk the other way
I'm done trying
It's useless.

I wake up to the smell of bacon
My roomate made a special treat.
The pain I have is fading
Numbness is taking its place.
We got the ocean breeze and the seven seas.
humming birds and buzzing bees
plant's and creatures
the beauty features .
farmers armer's and those midnight charmers
we have food not hard to search for,
kids who have to line at  church door's  
         there'e are stores to by our sneekers others off to be a tweeker.
we get clean drinks with out no kinks it's the U.S.A with out no pay.
with a clean head, and a nice bed.
some call it lucky to live in a shed...
a different country roomate with a monkey ,
roof made of hay the dirt bed a lay.
we live like survivors , we search for our dinners , how is it made to be u.s.a winners?
with you're cool cars and movie stars,
you get ocupied ,
             and well supplied...
what a cool plate i'd wish for in fate
you have you're singers we eat with our fingers.
you roll those dice and hope for some nice,
lets go find dinner and cope with some rice....
Look who's at bat and serving at war,
                           you're lifes just so hard with you're  one choor.
      I want MY MONEY!!!
                                                            HA!
                                                                                             thats ****'s just funny...

_---Look at this world--
                                         with a breef glance ,
                                                                           Think of it more then some school dance.
SJ Stine Oct 2010
I am torn between the three.

The first was the high school crush,
who came to the same college,
who joined the same clubs,
who I see all around campus.
The one I can always depend on.
The future roomate.
The one I missed my chance with.
There might sill be feelings between us,
but we both know we missed our shot.

The second was the first college crush,
who I knew I would like at first sight,
who had that indie style,
that artistic flair,
who just got out of a serious relationship.
I knew it was doomed from the start,
but the ride was too fun to let go.

The third is the most recent,
the one I know I can't have,
the one I keep talking myself out of.
I know it won't happen,
because it can't happen.
I am reading too much into friendly gestures,
simple comments.
This is the one that might just get me,
I have to keep my distance around him,
but his presence always draws me in.
I know it's crazy and stupid.
But my friends think we would be adorable,
and that makes it true right?

I am caught between these three.
None will let me go,
and honestly,
I don't want them to.
Alex McQuate Aug 2017
I never wanted him,
And I swore I never wanted him,
But the time he approached me about moving  in was the second I just didn't care.

At first it was awesome,
An exciting time,
Doing something not cookie cutter and certainly not something I'd do if I was in any sort of right mind.

And for a time it was great.

The curtains finally seemed to be drawn away,
But little did I know all I was doing was putting on blinders,
When I thought I was exploring the new and adventurous,
I was rooting through the dark and the dangerous.

The roommate turned out to be a creature,
A monster in sheep's clothing,
And he was in the middle of the flock.

I think I ridded myself of him,
Though he is always knocking on my door,
I made the mistake of letting him back in once,
Something I'll never repeat again.
The carpenters house is never finished.

The dishwashers roomate leaves passive aggressive sticky notes on the faucet.

After work, the cook does not make dinner; the cook finds dinner.

The retail worker will not hesitate to call you an *******.

The bartender
can not hold a relationship.

The caregiver
can not bear a child

When the lobbyist comes home, there is no talk of money; there is no talk at all, only passion, hands and coffee.

When the lobbyist does not come home, there is plenty talk of money; prepaid hotel suites, passion, hands and no coffee.

In the *** workers free time, the *** worker does not give body to strangers; you will never find a lover more faithful than the *** worker.

When the prophett dies, the prophett keeps living.

When the artist is not painting
the artist is watching.

The worlds most powerful leaders have a dungeon in their basement.

The sociopath can know what is right and do the wrong thing anyway.
The sociopath doesn't need a job for that.

It just happens...

sometimes...

The sociopath is working on it.
I hang on every second
for even a sliver of perspective
a word, anything to tie me to you
something to say that i haven't lost you
a look even,
my chest feels like it's got a boulder on it
my hands are shaking
every time i hear the sound of a message
i secretly hope its you
i gave my roomate all my knives and sharp things to hide
no more scissors in the bathroom
that spare compass somewhere put away
i swear my remarks were never meant to cut you
and knowing that i did, how bad i hurt you
makes me feel like i deserve those slices
a few too many pills
the exploration of an artery
but i told you id change
that id be a different man
that i was overcoming
that i put the knife away
along with the ****
and i'm trying
i'm fighting
i'm tired
but i'm not done til i lay down
i'm not giving up on this
even though friendship is not an option right now
again, that one with the chemicals.
Miley Cyrus Jan 2015
My Moms a little *****....
all she does...
i mean stop
im not even in the mood for writing
like back the **** up off me ya little *****
go get some ******* friends
all u do is worry about me
on the school website 24 ******* 7
til you "saw" a 2 hour delay this morning
its like your my roomate
like an annoying *** buzing in my ear
i try to wasp you away
but its like your their
i dont feel comftorable even when i am
and im done with the unatural feelings
if its comftorable it is
...and if its not....
it isn....
ya know i dont even know why i stress...
like why...
why i even care
...like my feelings...
are my ******* feelings
....i do what i do....
i am who i am...
and its like?
like ya know....
like im in the shadows
but i have a big *** sparkly unicorn entertaining everyone
that either love it or hate
its like im fake as ****
but genuinly nice
but out of a sorta obligated way
like nice but ya know i dont wanna scare you off nice
or i dont want you to think im aggressive or anything nice
.....
you feel
its weird
my mind
...its like
whewwwwww
life tho.....
Like life right now...sometimes feels fake...like im in a play....trying to do each line perfectly..and maybe doing it or not, but always feeling like a failure, like something is missing...ya know..weird huh, life....huh
life huh huh huh....you crusade through it.....and feel outa place...so ya try to solve your *****...and no ansuh....none...tampoco.....nada.....nunca....just no answer....and you realize that life has no intructions to living the perfect life, nor a list full of wrong **** to do, its all just you and your moment....the moment, and its really up to you if your gonna flaunt it, waste it, or lose it. good luck...cuz its hard as a *****, like i thought you could really just snap your ******* fingers....
Tea Oct 2015
I love you like a five year old loves puddle jumping. Like fire-flies like flicking on the light inside them. Your a smooth well held stone as familiar to my touch as my own skin... examined again and again you begin to stretch. More like the sea then any old stone I begin to understand your love from me, I realize I was hardly holding all of you inside the palm of one hand, your encapsulating. I have been to church and heard them preach, how is it no one ever teaches about the heaven that can be created right where you are. I have never found faith in old made up words but you have me believing in new truths. I'll treasure you like farmers treasurer rain, like Christians treasure there own salvation, how curiosity feels when finding out the answer. You make me feel like the surface of the stillest pond inside a rainstorm, all of me remaining, even expanding but shaken up in the best of ways. I have cared about you from the moment I met you, I love you now and always. love your roomate<3
Ottar Apr 2014
was it the sprawl,
that could not be all,
was it the speed,
he could keep up, if he had the need,

he liked the vibe,
he hoped he had found his tribe,
but it broke him
,

he built trust in bridges,
they could not span their own gap,
they looked solid and made well,
they were already jaded with rust
all in, was a bust,
they left him short,
it was a gamble from the start.

they did not know their lies,
their egos, half-truth logos,
would make a cosmetic surgical
nightmare of his heart-felt dream.

No cards, no games,
no table, no chairs on which to play,
tonight he moves out,
from there

alone

he may find a couch,
for a few nights,
he may have a couple of places to stay,
but what if that falls through

he has made choices
maybe even heard voices,
woke up not knowing how much time a
has passed,
but that all changed, it didn't last,
he knew that no longer fit,
the present or the future,
it was the past,

the cracks in the night and
he has bags under his eyes as big as
the bags he carries over his shoulder
he will not tell them the truth,

for if he has a place to stay,
hope it is better than the hell he has been through,
and if he is able to see the stars,
may he know that You are not very far,
and we are waiting by our phones for his thumbs,

to remember family
even when he is broken,
he is no less than the sum of his broken parts,
and a whole lot more,

to some of us,
loading his excess baggage into
the car,
he was going to join me to unload and
go back to clean,
I
drove
home alone,
he stayed there,
in that basement that
never saw daylight
to clean,
no roommates to help,

I packed his bags into
the overstuffed garage,
wasn't much but it isn't large,

we hugged before I got behind the wheel
to home alone, drive,
their were tears in his eyes,
that matched the ones on my shirt shoulder,

"it is so hard to leave this place,"
I could see it on his face,
not only was he broken,
he is sad,

he knows the door is always open here,
he has work,
with no place to stay,
he likes the big city,
and won't move a
large river away,
too far from work,
too far from the life,
he wants to capture,
catch it with that thread of hope
to sew the broken parts
of his heart,
of his head,
of his mind,
of his spine,
of his arm and legs,
of his hands and feet,
from his toes to his hair,

he has piercings and has beenbeenybeen pierced
by this
he is so close to where he wants to be,
to live, to have a life,
not a half-life,

he needs a roof over his head,
a roomate or two to trust,
hope that the job pans out,
he needs find nuggets,
not sand to pound,

even brokeness needs time to heal,
more could be said,
about God and man,
the church and all that,
but none of that and
all of that contributed
to break number 3.

Son number two but child number 3,
as parent when they walk
out that door, however they go,
not done raising them,
even if you have let go,
love them, let it show,
they need to know

otherwise they may walk in the
dark and it will swallow
all the broken parts whole.

It broke number 3,
it took about a year,
sleep and slumber befall me,
Watch over him, wrest my fears,
he did not think it would end,
this way without having another
place to stay.
On loosing a child, a young man, in a very big unkind city, where he won't say where he will stay, and the anguish, that floats

Have you heard this one, four room mates move in together, rents expensive and it takes four to make the rent easier to swallow (broken glass with the edges sanded) anyway, two decide to move on, relationships and valid life stuff, but they don't play well with others, some says they will move in and then change their mind, then there were three, rent gets very expensive, then one of the other ones has a difficult family situation and decides it is best to move home, and that leaves two who have to give notice one can find a place and one cannot, well at least not that he can afford, so my thoughts are with him and this is no joke, if there is a punch line, I missed it.
Matt Dec 2015
I would rather
Be a substitute

No conferences
And 11 hour days

And besides
I won't make that much more
Teaching full time

Just barely enough
Maybe to have a small apartment
Or live with a roomate

I will stay in this home
No need to leave
No need for more money

— The End —