It’s a very dark night. Not the kind that is frightening, but the kind that makes you feel peaceful, safe, in trance. you feel it embrace you, like the hug of a mother, and the rain just makes everything better. Not a heavy rain, but the kind that caresses your face and feels cold when the breeze hits it.
The apartment has big windows. That’s mostly what made me settle on it, I love big windows. Because at rainy nights, like this one, I like to sit in front of it and just enjoy myself, the streets, the world. Until it stops. Those hours (sometimes minutes) are pure bliss to me. People don’t like rain that much.
I like to watch people, too. I can see them through my window during the day, big waves of people heading to work, home, anywhere, nowhere. Sometimes I just watch, but don’t see. Sometimes I see and what I see is that most of them don’t seem happy at all. Some smile occasionally, some never do. I don’t understand them, but what do I know?
I can shoot a lot of people from here if I had a sniper rifle. Just an observation.
I sip my coffee as I keep watching the rain fall and hear it hit the window and watch the raindrops slowly race to the bottom of it as my roommate comes in; rudely interrupting the happiness.
I have a roommate because I am not rich and the apartment is a bit pricey. This guy was also interested in it and, like me, didn’t had enough money. I personally prefer living alone, but it’s a beautiful apartment with a beautiful view and I couldn’t let it pass.
Do I like living with this guy? Well, if I had to rate it from 1 to 10 I’d give it a please-stab-me-in-the-eye-with-a-rusty-knife-and-twist-it/10. Is it that bad? Hmm, no, not really. He doesn’t washes anything he uses and makes a mess in the kitchen by just pouring water on a glass and brings people over way too often (and we’re not supposed to do that, at most we can invite 2 people, any more than that is not allowed) yet I don’t complain. I never complain.
He’s trying to show me this tattoo he got on his thigh, an Illuminati eye or something like that, I don’t know or want to know. That’s why I pretended to look at it, sighed a “Looks nice.” And stared back outside. I’m not giving him the satisfaction. He leaves me alone for the night. He goes to his room to chat with whatever girl he’s “dating” now, or wants to. I say “dating” because he’s only with a girl for about 3 weeks and the girl then dumps him or he forgets he’s dating her. He’s also extremely retarded when it comes to girls. The way he talks, the jokes, the flirting. God have mercy. But it’s okay because he’s handsome, they always fall. people don’t care much about what you say if you’re handsome.
It’s getting pretty late.
I work at an art gallery. I just do the cleaning and whatever else they need me for. If it weren’t for a friend of mine who works there, I wouldn’t have the job. I don’t get paid a lot but I don’t do a lot so it’s alright. What I hate about it is the people. Okay, I can understand art. I can find beauty in it, in art. ART. A drug addict who sniffed 2 kilos of coke up his ass and threw the whole bucket of red paint at the canvas is not making art. A girl with her period may do something similar in her panties and no one calls that art. And people stare at it with a cup of (cheap) wine in their hands and try to look cult by saying shit like “You can feel the anger of the artist. It’s very profound and it submerges you to the point where you’re living it.” Living what?! For all I know they are high too!
I also work at a coffee shop. Now that I like. I make coffee all day (I love that) And I drink coffee all day (I love that even more) the only thing that kinda lowers the fun is all those hipsters who are way too hipsters to go to Starbucks, so they go for a “not-so-mainstream” option, us. It could be worse, though I could be like those people in suits I see through my window; Running all day, taking cabs, barely have time to eat, rush back to work, run around the office, get yelled at, sleep way less than they need to. That’s not for me. That’s not for anybody.
There’s this girl who comes regularly. always orders the same; Cappuccino, extra sugar, no cream. She sits and reads a book while sipping her coffee. She has red, curly hair. Brighter than the sun. Snow white skin and freckles on her face. She dresses kinda nerdy and has big glasses. She gives me a smile every time I give her her coffee, “Thank you, see ya.” She has read The Godfather, The Clown and Fight Club. I love those books. Sometimes I think I only go to work to see her smile, see her thin lips move as she talks, her big eyes always looking like she’s seen heaven and the way she plays with her hair when she reads.
Today she arrived with her boyfriend. Of course she has a partner, you twat. She’s not you.
It’s not raining anymore, and the dark streets now look hollow, they’re slowly sucking the world into oblivion.
I drank all the coffee, time to sleep.
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