You should put shoes on

"I'll be back""
"you should put shoes on"
"what?"
"this house isnt safe. put some shoes on you dont wanna cut yourself"
how exactly am i supposed to explain that i live in a shitty squat?
Should I have explained this before? How the fuck did i get her in the first place? Fuck the questions.
"there is a lot of broken glass"
"what?"
"i told you this place sucked i wasn't kidding"
did I really think she wouldnt notice all the broken glass, the destroyed furniture, the smashed windows? Its ok I got this after all she is still here it could be worse. What the fuck kind of situation is this? normal people dont have bathroom warnings. fuck being normal, itll work itself out.
"can i brush my teeth?"
"we dont really have running water"
"that is normal for a squat dont worry" I tell myself.
"well someone smashed the water pipe and we had to cap it off"  my explination sounds futile. the truth is strange sometimes.
if I had hot water this terrible place would be better but who has time for that? I dont. Life is too short fuck the water, fuck the bills, fuck rent. I wish this would last forever.

Everything but the kitchen sink

"How does it even get like this?"  I wondered aloud. the slime that seems to grow in it has a smell that permeates the house. If it was colorful it might look pleasant but the varied colors of vomit green and brown are less than intriguing. The consistency is somewhere between lube and snot. Those noodles that have been there for months aren't mine. I think at one point that festering pile in the left corner was a tomato, who knows for sure is a matter for a different time. The beer can is so gross that nobody will be recycling it. I think the phallic shaped item may be a sausage but its quite uncertain to be honest.

Punk rock that's what this must be. We don't need to clean that's a capitalist idea. Fuck mutual aid though I'm not touching this anytime soon. I don't think this scene would even make a good album cover. Nobody want to be associated with this. Perhaps the problem started when I ground up a pot plant in the garbage disposal because I was super paranoid and stoned. Nobody knows for sure. when it gets to this point there is no blame only blind ignorance. If I don't look at it or cook it wont exist.

The dishes wont be able to be salvaged I can guarantee  that, well not by me at least. There becomes a certain point in life when the realization hits " I really am a fucking degenerate". Its a realization that you either run with and flourish in a new wonderful life or shape the fuck up and join the military or some other such bullshit. I don't have time for that, just throw it all away and move the fuck out. After all I hate the landlord and there are plenty of more sinks to destroy.