Springtime Troubles

When people ask me what my favorite season is, they should really ask me what my least favorite season is, which is spring.  It’s messy and confusing, with the conflict between the cool temperatures and the warm sun making my hands cold but my head hot, and all the dirt that settles and accumulates into the city throughout the winter is finally liberated by the springtime breezes, which always ends up in my eyeballs.  Plus, I have bad allergies, and the dirt and the pollen that fly about always, without a doubt, find their way through my airways which leave me in a season-long state of discomfort.  But the worst part of spring is what happens in my apartment.

The walls and floors are porous, so I’ve gotten used to hearing my neighbors sneeze and cough, do their dishes, and practice their guitar, but it’s also porous enough for their smells to end up in my tiny studio apartment.  With the heat on in the winter, and the AC on in the summer, I don’t get these odors, but last night I woke up in the middle of the night to the smell of someone grilling steaks and this morning to the smell of wet dog.

I don’t really care what other people do in their own homes, but when I can smell what they do, then they involve me.  This is unfortunate when you live next door to the most evil person on the planet.  She knows how much all this bothers me, so she’s been invading her odors with her evil powers where every piece of fabric that I own smells like her dog.  I swear that she uses her sorcery to absorb all the odors from everyone’s apartment and siphon them off into my stuffy little studio.  Sometimes it’s a guessing game, like, oh, what is that? is that… menthol? now what is she putting up against my closet??  that smells like.. mothballs!  The worst is when she, with her evil powers, spreads the smell of urine right where I’m sitting on my couch.  A few years back, I thought it was me.  But then, I was like, I haven’t changed my hygiene habits- I still bathe everyday.  When I realized what she was doing it really grossed me out.  Now every time I get a nasty whiff of her dog, I feel like I’m on the verge of getting pink eye.

It’s supposed to get up to 90 degrees this weekend, and I can’t wait to blast that AC so I can finally inhale without getting any gritty particles in my nose or a whiff of any disease inducing odors.

Summer can’t come soon enough.

 

Their Precious

What does it say about a person who doesn’t believe when someone is telling the truth but will believe anything that a pathological liar would say? It certainly isn’t the reflection of the honest one, but more of a reflection of the one who would want to believe the liar. I will fight it and I will always fight it every time and every instance whenever and wherever this happens because if there’s one thing I have it’s the truth.  And I know now what disgusting characters people are and what they choose to believe.  I do not believe I am in the same class, intellect, emotional, nor spiritual disposition than any of them.  They, the hungry, the classless, the lifeless, godless, depraved creatures, are so desperate to find someone more classless, lifeless, depraved than they. They look at me and find none of these things. They cannot comprehend my truth, sense of justice, sense of fairness and decency. They are so desperate they will grab and slather their sins on whatever victim that is willing to take them or tolerate them. Truth is truth and light is light and these disgusting creatures cower from light. They would rather hide in darkness. They do not have the moral decency or the spiritual fortitude to look at and accept truth.

They are like a horde of Gollums as they walk down the hall, take the elevator, check their mailboxes, looking for their “precious”