The Biggest Reason I Don’t Like Leaving My Apartment

The days of keeping all my curtains drawn, 24/7, are long gone. That was really depressing. I found this handy dandy cling film to put on the windows instead now. Pure sunshine coming through, yet I’m left obscured from view.

I love the sunshine on my skin, I just don’t want people to ruin it. People are usually where the sunshine is.

“People are what causes my severe vitamin D deficiency,” I say whilst shaking my fist at the sky.

It’s not that I don’t like people. I have an undying love and acceptance for them, feelings most people don’t have for themselves. This is the issue.

I like boundaries. My apartment door is a boundary that keeps people without boundaries on the other side.

When I go outside that door, I have a pathological liar for a neighbor who used to be drag queen, but is now an attention whore and a resources mooch. Any time I even open the door a smidge, he’s out there seeing what’s what.

If I step away from my 10-unit apartment complex, there’s usually someone pushing or pulling a cart of some kind and screaming. They are the least of my worries, because they are already interacting with someone invisible, no time to bother with me.

I live in a large city, where I know someone everywhere I go. It’s also an artist community in my neighborhood. I’ve partied hard with these people, slept with a good number of them, and generally worn my underwear on my head, both figuratively and metaphorically.

Since I stopped taking E every weekend, snorting coke when it was free and drinking way more than my liver felt comfortable with (by the way, thanks liver – you’re my unsung hero and I do appreciate you) I’m just not the same person. I’m fatter, calmer and less likely to ruin everyone else’s time in a movie theatre by loudly deconstructing the plot in the first five minutes.

“No, dude. I won’t shut up. The money used to make this shit movie could have fed thousands of hungry people in some other country.”

The biggest reason I don’t leave my apartment is the lack of telepathic communication skills between people. If I could just send messages without wasting my lifetime word quota, I’d be more likely to mingle amongst the muggles.

Words are precious, and so is my limited energy. Telepathy would enable a silent passing by and quick assessment of the potential annoyance and/or benefit of any type of engagement.

Does this sound pretentious and unfriendly to you? Well, I’d probably avoid you then if I could read your mind, and we’d have a better day for it.

This is my call to action for you – let’s make telepathy a thing. We’ve got the potential within us, let’s unlock it my friends.

Call your Senators, tell them you won’t stand for this waste of natural resources any longer. MAKE TELEPATHY MAINSTREAM. We’ve got to stop this precious waste of words and start tapping into our unused potential.

I’ve got to get out more.