A Shitty Situation.

... happens when two guys come visit your flatmate and one of which happens to be initially infatuated with the said roommie but quickly realizes there are even moar captivating and mesmerizing house members... [don't ask who]. How does it feel? Careless. The priceless feeling of careless ignorance which you experience when there are some incomers willing to party, make [devastatingly temporary and provisional] friends but you cease their attempts.

How is it going? asked he chat invitingly.
What? replied me irreverently.
Well, anything that you're doing, studying. 
I'm not doing it now.

[the guy leaving the apartment for a fag; screen dims out]

End of a ferocious exchange. I could literally go barricade myself in the bathroom, lie down in the bathtub and wait for the rest of the evening to bring awaited effects. The guy in case perceptibly put off his stroke. This is not to mention his exceedingly elaborated [if physical substance can be] muscle mass, an apparition of a gang leader and a cocky veil which he oh so overwhelmingly tried at establishing. Really, a new kind of inner part is developing. Devil may care.

That there, that's not me. I go where I please. I walk through walls. I float down the Liffey. I'm not here. This isn't happening, I'm not here, I'm not here. In a little while I'll be gone. The moment's already passed. Yeah, it's gone... Strobe lights and blown speakers, fireworks and hurricane.