Roommate

So, I don’t like my roommate, and I think I have fairly good reason not to. For starters, she’s a one upper. Every time I open my mouth to share a story or a problem, she has an even more fantastical story or devastating problem. Second, she is extremely condescending. Just because I’m not social doesn’t mean I’m stupid or naive. Third, she says awful things about me behind my back to our shared friends who of course tell me what she has said, and when I confront her about it she lies to my face, saying they twisted her words and then goes on to tell me she said the complete opposite of what I’ve heard. Mostly she complains about the fact that my side of the room is messy, which it’s not. It’s just organized chaos which I keep contained to my side of the room. The worst part is that she continues to pretend to be my friend to my face, and I just don’t feel like dealing with anymore conflict since I have to live with her, so I just go along with it. Finally, she constantly talks about how weird my art is.

Yes, the subject of my art tends to lean towards the abnormal. I like to express my sarcastic, dark, and borderline-sadistic sense of humor in my work, so it tends to be a bit creepy. However, that does not mean my roommate needs to bring it up EVERY SINGLE TIME she sees my art, which is quite often since I work on it almost 24/7. So, the reason I’m sharing this with you is because I may have done something a bit mean the other day.

Currently, I’m drawing a picture that involves a picture of a girl from the torso up with a heart cut out in her chest with a raven coming out, and there are worms in her hair because I didn’t feel like drawing a nest like I originally planned. So, my roommate walks over and looks at what I’m drawing and says “That’s so disturbing. How do you come up with this stuff?” (This is about the third time she’s said this about this drawing). So, I look at her completely serious and respond “Well, sometimes I feel like there’s a bird living in my chest instead of my heart, and he’s trying to get out, and that if my hair grew worms then I would be able to feed my bird.” That ended the conversation, and she left me alone after that. Honestly, I had thought she would get that I was being sarcastic, but I guess not. She hasn’t said anything more about my art. I wonder how long it will last. Honestly, I just wanted to express in the drawing how hearts can figuratively take different forms, but I think I like my new explanation much more.

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