Notes From The Underground

CHAPTER SEVEN

Is it bad I'm avoiding Kendall? I haven't spoken to her in weeks. I refuse to. If I talk to her, I'll give in and pretend everything's okay again when it's not. I refuse to give in. Giving in shows weakness. I am strong.

I am a liar.

The first week. Normally after school I got drunk with Kendall, or I'd watch tv or waste my time away with whatever I found to be more important than my school work. Make a sandwich, jerk off, nap. Out of boredom, I started doing my homework again. In all honesty, it's not as hard to do as I always claimed it to be. My grandpa used to say something to me when I was a kid, words of encouragement almost. "Excuses are like assholes, everyone's got one...and they always stink." And I take that to heart now.

In less than a week, my grades were actually going up. When you see an F go to a D in a few short days, you get proud of yourself. It might be rude to say Kendall was holding me back, and yeah maybe I should be learning how to manage my friendships and my schooling. That would be what anyone with any shred of common sense would do. Ah, common sense. One of many things I lack, making me furthermore imperfect.

The first week without Kendall I suffer such intolerable loneliness I masturbate so much I'm beating my dick raw. I cry under the fridge, I have tub of lotion on my bed side, I watch so much porn I start being unable to find videos on any site that I had yet to see. My whole room was dark and I think all the jerking has gave me muscle mass in my left arm that wasn't there before. I am the most pitiable creature to walk the Earth that week. My bed sheets were disgusting and stained, there were tissues laying everywhere. I don't even remember the last meal I had. Why do I feel like I'm 12 all over again?

Four rounds, new record.

On the second week without talking to Kendall, I managed to clean my room. I never clean my room, which results in it being an absolute disgusting mess. I cleared out the underneath of my bed, finding four empty milk jugs, two orange juice jugs (one half full), at least 20 empty yogurt cups, cans of soda some full some gone, six mice, a box of chocolate from Valentine's Day (It's January), some cookies and a glass of cottage cheese (I can assure you it used to be milk), and a few other things.

Once I had six trash bags by my door, and my room still wasn't completely clean, I realized I might have an issue with being uncleanly. I cleaned off my dresser, and next to my tv, there was a black t shirt wadded up. Until I got closer, and I realized, it wasn't a shirt, in fact, it was a giant pile of fucking ants. Ah yes, ants.

I changed my sheets, finding millions of crumbs within them and in my pillow case more, as well as some pills I had stashed away, not wanting to take them. Back when I was medicated. I cleared out my dresser, opening the compartment I used to hide things in back when I had shame about what I did. There were three mice eating old candy inside of it. I'm not joking. This is how bad it was.

I started to clear out my closet, finding old shirts and jeans I thought I had lost but nope they were buried in my damn closet. There was also a small bird dead in the corner, but it was because of my cat, not me being that gross.

In conclusion, it took 5 days to clean my room, do homework, and not kill myself. But in general, the second week without Kendall wasn't too bad. I haven't slept in a clean bed in years. Well, not in my bed, while it's clean. I'm actually quite proud. I have a desk. Did you know that because I sure didn't.

I'm insufferably slothful.

The second week was arguably one of the worst experiences of my life, because I was not aware of the exactly how uncleanly and disgusting I truly was until then. I mean, holy hell, how many other people find chicken nuggets behind a lamp they didn't even know they fucking had? Only me, I swear to god.