#A Room of One's Own

I can't live where I want to in my budget but a family can? The bias that house owners have is just pathetic. I live in a house currently which is quite an inconvenience to me. I tolerate it because of my freedoms. But I realize now, my freedoms have been illusionary. They're dependent on such basic things.

I tolerate it when the voltage issue makes my house look like a dimly lit Pecos or for some a haunted house. I tolerate bad plumbing. I am constantly reparing things around the house. Rich people keep disrupting my routine. Nobody helps clean but everybody helps destroy this house's floors, switches, my mugs, and walls. Some rich vegan girl who hates adult lady terms broke the toilet seat and has not paid for it. She drank a lot of almond milk in my house for free.

I asked a bunch of painters to come paint my house and they'd rather paint for Instagram than the friend who gave them gigs that made them famous.

I'll do it myself.

I want carpets but it's ground floor and there's too much dust plus my friends seem to never respect the fact that wet shoes are not welcome inside. I want creepers but there's no direct sunlight. Artificial light is at the mercy of poor connection in this house. A few basic things in this house are so dysfunctional. I don't even have a locker to keep anything locked.

I want to cook but there's no air in the damn kitchen. They've closed the chimney. No exhaust fan. Everything sticks because of it. Dust on top of that.

Dry sinks, welcome cockroaches. Keeping the drains clean is also an issue?

There are no shelves with doors. There's no logical arrangement to keep anything in the kitchen.

The hall has out of place really fucked up shelf that keeps hitting me. The mattress on the floor restricts me from brooming because it is too damn heavy.

I hate changing the lights in this house again and again. White light looks bad. Yellow light looks bad. What lights should I put in this damn house?

The shower has an issue with pressure despite me having a seperate tank. I mean for fucks sake I can't even dance in the shower without hitting my elbows against something.

You live on the mercy of when water comes. Tank gets filled.

And it is bloody unpredictable.

My boyfriend says it's alternative days but it's been proven wrong too.

Plus storing is an issue. There's no place for a drum.

I can't keep the washing machine in the toilet. It's a second hand machine that is automatic and cost me only 5k. Have to keep this beloved piece of legend outside the house. People on the street can see in my house easily if I just keep the door open.

There's always water leaking somewhere in this house no matter much you tighten the valves.

I don't have a quiet corner for writing except at nights – 2:30am.

I feel like I'm suffocating in my house.

I have no curfew. I have no restrictions yet it feels like a prison of micro aggressions.

I adjust but I'm so tired. I want basic shit at least. Sunlight but no fucking noise and dust.

All the basic shit is with landlords who charge too much or only rent to families.

PGs have restrictions.

I need a room of my own. The kind that Virginia Woolf described.