Things started to look up last night as cleaning products were introduced to the Queen and what was thought to be used to clean the filth she consistently produces. Nein.
Purely selfish reasons. She believes in false hope only to shatter, crunch, and stomp all over them. The bathroom was flooded once more by her lack of understanding of the invention of the towel. Never has cloth and paper products been more of a necessity in my life until now.
But quick! Stop thinking about having to put on your rain boots to take on the swamp to use the bathroom...the cake is burning. Her cake. The Queen's cake. Time is not a concept anymore and if it's not death by candle it will most certainly be death by food. BURNING FOOD THAT IS CHOCOLATE CAKE NOT BROWNIES. Silly little queen.
The next day...
I ever so carefully but swiftly clamored down the 2 inch wide "ladder" of my bunk bed as my senses stirred panicked at the sounds of dishes clinging, pots clashing. The Queen is home and Cinderella has been asleep.
The door is torn open, quickly holding on by the hinges as not to be ripped off the frame so unexpectedly. And there it was....not just a plate of brownies..but a plate of chocolate cake that the Queen mistook as convertible brownies. Her cake on my plate. My property defiled by her forgetfulness.
She can have her cake and eat it too just not on my plate.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Survival Journal, Volume two
It has been two weeks. Escape was found on 40th street for approximately 5 days, leaving pilgrims behind in savaged quarters.
I returned to worsened living conditions. Its dark and I am forced to live by candles. Hair has crawled out of the drain and now sits perched on the tiles of the shower. Dirty socks stake camp at the base of the toilet. A white towel serves as a rug, taking fingerprints of the dirt that collects.
The Queen of Siberia has draped our furniture in wax. Green wax. Now it is hard to recognize the brown of the desert from the seemingly green of the jungle.
The flicker of flame reminds us that fire is only a candlestick away but we can already feel the warmth of its destruction. When her eyes shut, our soul finds peace but now even the absence of her iris’ cause risk. Our sanity is at stake.
I returned to worsened living conditions. Its dark and I am forced to live by candles. Hair has crawled out of the drain and now sits perched on the tiles of the shower. Dirty socks stake camp at the base of the toilet. A white towel serves as a rug, taking fingerprints of the dirt that collects.
The Queen of Siberia has draped our furniture in wax. Green wax. Now it is hard to recognize the brown of the desert from the seemingly green of the jungle.
The flicker of flame reminds us that fire is only a candlestick away but we can already feel the warmth of its destruction. When her eyes shut, our soul finds peace but now even the absence of her iris’ cause risk. Our sanity is at stake.
Survival Journal, Volume one
February 25, 2009
11:23pm
It's been two weeks, living conditions are rough. Mice with bones so little they can fit in the tiniest crack beneath our bedroom door. On the other side of that bedroom door live bed bugs. The scariest vermin known to sleepers...everywhere. Bites along my leg, I don't know when or how...just who.
It's so hot these days, grains of sand seeping up through the carpet while the dial on the heater is broken...it won't turn off high. The queen is the happiest she has been, since the big move to what is now...Saudia Arabia.
While there is a drought in the living room and sleeping quarters, the bathroom remains flooded at least three times a day. Toilet paper is constantly running low, forcing us to use paper towels that clog the new york sewer system. Water is going to have to be rationed soon..as well as toilet paper. Too many showers, yet I havent showered in weeks.
We ran out of mozzarella today. Asparagus in its rawest form. Thankfully, we have enough half-eaten apples to last us a while.
Space is low, books now take up residence in our bath tub, as well as using the Oxford Annotated Bible as both toilet paper and for cockroach squashing. Black seeps from its edges as it kills one more of the creepy crawlers that is the cockroach colony.
Mold is growing back. We thought we conquered it months ago. The paint is cracking and it is back with vengeance. Time spent in a closed shoebox bathroom is also being rationed due to toxic chemicals growing on the ceiling above us.
A week ago we ran out of room for the little food we have. Boxes of pasta and loaves of bread fall from the shelf...not that we could have eaten it anyways because the heat destroys all that is edible.
Victory though will prevail. It has to.
11:23pm
It's been two weeks, living conditions are rough. Mice with bones so little they can fit in the tiniest crack beneath our bedroom door. On the other side of that bedroom door live bed bugs. The scariest vermin known to sleepers...everywhere. Bites along my leg, I don't know when or how...just who.
It's so hot these days, grains of sand seeping up through the carpet while the dial on the heater is broken...it won't turn off high. The queen is the happiest she has been, since the big move to what is now...Saudia Arabia.
While there is a drought in the living room and sleeping quarters, the bathroom remains flooded at least three times a day. Toilet paper is constantly running low, forcing us to use paper towels that clog the new york sewer system. Water is going to have to be rationed soon..as well as toilet paper. Too many showers, yet I havent showered in weeks.
We ran out of mozzarella today. Asparagus in its rawest form. Thankfully, we have enough half-eaten apples to last us a while.
Space is low, books now take up residence in our bath tub, as well as using the Oxford Annotated Bible as both toilet paper and for cockroach squashing. Black seeps from its edges as it kills one more of the creepy crawlers that is the cockroach colony.
Mold is growing back. We thought we conquered it months ago. The paint is cracking and it is back with vengeance. Time spent in a closed shoebox bathroom is also being rationed due to toxic chemicals growing on the ceiling above us.
A week ago we ran out of room for the little food we have. Boxes of pasta and loaves of bread fall from the shelf...not that we could have eaten it anyways because the heat destroys all that is edible.
Victory though will prevail. It has to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)