Domestic Terrorism

I’m suspicious for no reason outside of paranoia that my roommate wipes his just-wet-not-washed post-doo-doo hands dry using my shower towel. There’s no foreseeable remedy to my suffering outside of maybe acting in kind, which I guess means I’m a proponent of the pre-emptive strike. And here all this time I fancied myself just emptive, a cool reactionary type. Or perhaps I’m generalizing and this is something singular, site specific, and possibly untrue. That plus I’m easily spurred by fictions of too much idleness, an easy mark for the dramaturgy of ennui. And always skeptical of shit particles.

But then why do I always end up with anonymous pens in my mouth?