BURST MY BUBBLE

I had a roommate in college who liked the room pitch-black when it was time for him to sleep, he'd force me to bed early. Everybody went to bed early except me, I was up mumbling a bunch of dumb words to keep them entertained so I wont be left all alone sleepless thinking to myself in the dark why the heck she can't love me, but they came to realize it was a trick and always promptly prohibited me from speaking when that time reached. One after the other they would all say 'Wyndago, shut up and go to sleep!' And when I grabbed my phone to at least tweet, the pitch-black crazed roommate complained about the light! Please! I thought, am I in prison? Every night it was the same story, to kill the boredom loneliness I'd walk up and down the room and soon as I begun one of them would go, 'and thus commences the daily ritual...' I miss those guys.

So anyway, Tony, the roommate who was obsessed with darkness, was one day covering all the ventilators and spaces that may allow light to pass through with newspapers. That glass thingy above the door was however proving a menace to wrap up, I think the cello-tape he was using was the problem but he didn't seem to relent. I was watching him closely with so much awe, then I told him. That thing is not going to work you're wasting your time! Tony got mad. Okay, perhaps I said much more than that and with the wrong tone... but he got mad. Then I had to pull back. I said; Tony, you're my friend, I love you no, that's gay. I said; I'm just trying to help you by telling you the truth, this is positive criticism. And I was pretty well answered, that if I wanted to be helpful I should have been up there with him taping old Newspapers on a glass window. Fair. But I didn't like the idea of a dark room anyway.

I don't know what it is but I will criticize. I won't be one of those friends who let their so-called friends go make a fool of themselves before a multitude of people believing they have something going on when they certainly don't. That's the price you pay when you become my friend. That is why I would greatly appreciate it to be told if you had a problem with me. Which brings me to Jason, my other former college roommate. This guy kept grudges, not for long but he held on to them instead of confronting the beef. He'd give you the silent treatment, to find out the cause or to just make sure it isn't you run to facebook ASAP! It will be there.

'Stupid idiot, I'm not your momma! You came here alone..'

That will be your first clue, you wouldn't need to be Mr Holmes to figure out the rest. Oh, and I haven't yet watched that movie... but I digress. See, I remember another incident when I accidentally spilled tea on Jason's bed, people just didn't understand the 'accidentally' part mostly because I did not realize it until I had to be told hours later what I had done! What I expected from Jason was, 'you son of a bitch, I'm going to kill ya!' because everyone I met looked at me funny saying Jason was yearning for my blood. I'm narrating the story now which means I'm alive. If I were Jason I probably would have just laughed it off, I'm easy like that. And that is sometimes a problem.

I have come to learn though, that sometimes it's better to keep ones mouth shut.Sometime back I wanted to have my 15 seconds minutes of fame and decided to go for a certain audition which I had told not a single soul about until now. I thought then that if I kept it to myself, it wouldn't be so embarrassing and upsetting if I wasn't successful. How wrong was I! Now, I wish I'd told someone so they could stop me. I was awful. To tell someone they suck at something they think they are exceptionally good at is so hurtful, regardless who is there or who says it. It bites you inside. It shouldn't be that bad if a friend told you though, I suppose. So for me, if you're my friend, tell me. Friends only, please... to avoid misdemeanors.

In other news; I'm told it's Valentine's already?