Evidence against the Toad

My resentment for him increases exponentially. I can see that graph in my head, with no beginning and no end, no sense of bearing. I am reminded of the time I wrote down that I loathed someone, in a personal diary, because of their jealousy, vindictiveness and selfishness (perfectly viable reasons). Said person, ifiltrated private written space then had trouble dechipering the word loath without the aid of a dictionary. The odd sense of irony added just another reason as to why I could not like someone. But times, have changed and I do not loath that girl.

But I loathe him. I resent him.
Every morning I wake to more mental check boxes in which I cross in angry, heavy strokes.
His blubbering voice filters into my head, oozes through the filmsy cracks of my bedroom door. It croaks, it croaks, it croaks. The man is a toad.

"try to turn off the lights, when you are not using them", says the man who left his bedroom light on this morning.

"lock your windows and doors, or someone will come in and steal everything", says the man who leaves his keys dangling from the front door all night, With the key still in its correspoinding lock.

"I have so many bills to pay, I have gas, water, electricty,internet", says the man who brazenly flicks through catalogues in front of me and suggests more crap to buy. Says the man who brought this on himself, with his mobile contract, interenet plan, x-box live service and foxtel bills. Says the man with no job, who complains about having to go to job search meetings. Says the man who can afford to show me his new "expensive" sneakers, his t-shirts. Who buys boxes of hair dye.

"What's the date today, Is it Friday?When is Thursday?" Says the man who made personalised calendars, stuck on the fridge, with his blob of a face, in stupid self-portraits taken with his mobile camera.

"I guess I have to clean up your mess again", Says the man who takes the only bottle of dish-washing liquid in the house to do his window-washing job, then comes home to find I've left a pan and a plate in the sink. When his mess from breakfast sits there too.


The blubbering, balding toad. Who wears his pants too low. Who always forgets to do up his fly once he leaves the rest-room. Who drenches the bath mats and tea-towels which I have supplied to the house, Who massacres my food, and never stores things properly.

My bedroom has evolved to become a pantry, to store morsels of food, so that he cannot touch them. I hide laundry powder so I have something to wash my clothes with, I have pegs, I have shampoo and conditioner, I have toilet paper, I have tooth paste, I have body wash, I have a room full of things that shouldn't be kept in a room.

Because I don't want to share with someone who has no respect.