Living with the Enemy

Though this blog was originally created to keep my friends update about interesting aspects of my life, I've avoided certain delicate issues, filling the content up with my emotinally-exaggerated opinions or mentioning someone in specific with negative statements. This long-haul attempt, nevertheless, has just came to an abrupt halt precisely today.

Since the first day I moved in to this apartment, the essence of loathing and hatred for my uneducated and unrespectful flatmate, the columbian Jorge, has been making their own space in the inner me. Enough for the respect that I have been giving by not mentioning the shameful behaviour of his. From this paragraph on, everything I write is going to be sheerly emotional.

My feeling towards this wrecthed colombian is the mixture of different negative attitudes which can be summed up into abomination, pity, scorn and contempt. The reason? Nothing in particular, only that everything he does bothers me. His attitude, his action, his lifestyle, his speech, his accent, his laugh and etc. He's a tangible and solid form of abstract disgust to me.

Jorge the Columbian; this name brings back the memory of a person who likes to throw scandalous fiestas without any notice beforehand, let alone respect, mind you. Making noises and laughing out merrily and stupidly while enjoying leisure time on weekend's nights (Uh, well, that's not his fault since everyone DOES enjoy doing so...I'm full of prejudices here). He's so passionate about bar-hopping (and bed-hopping, another biased comment from me) that going out at night is one of the greatest features. Definitely a typical party animal who adores rock music with an unrefined attitude towards life. No serious matters! Just plain mirth and joy!(See Spain = Fiesta and Life is a Roller Coaster)

He is capable of turning our flat into a hotel by hosting his many friends every month, again without telling me who's coming and going; even a hotel receptionist is a lot better informed than me.

He represents a walking shame who lacks social decencies and the basic rules of cohabitations. Setting aside the fact that he rarely cleans the public domain of the house, some unwashed and dirty crockery accumulates here and there once in a while as a fruit of his disgusting behaviour.

Despite his job and monthly wage, this rueful sot is pretty picky about how to save more money by reducing light and water bills. He once told me to use the "half-quantity" function of the washing machine so that we would pay less for the water. But damn him, how that function was supposed to clean ALL my clothes at once, provided that there were many of them, if not a few, in there. He tries to make a saving out of necessary basic things in daily life, as to spend that particular money on vodkas, beers, rums, martinis or whatsoever that will colour up his merry life.

There are much more disturbing trivialities about this person I can spend all day long ranting about ceaselessly. But for fear of transmitting my contagious negative energy to my beloved readers, I will end it all here. At least, you now have some ideas of what kind of human being I'm living with. And with that, I'm satisfied.

This article admittedly serves me as a therapeutical solution, i.e. to help me get on with this miserable man in real life. But since it is extremely biased, I have decided to exclude it from the tag archive. It should be buried deep down in this pile of many blogs I've written, as my real feeling towards him kept at the darkest depth of my hateful side. Well hidden but never forgotten.