Not a home

It’s not a home, it’s a house, it is usually the other way around but in this instance this is entirely correct and accurate. People living in a world of remoteness to one another, oh actually to think even briefly upon it, this is not such a strange feeling or occurrence. People live in relationships separate from one another, its interesting, humans, who live with each other – and don’t communicate. These ramblings are in reference to my one line conversation flat mates. Its quite intriguing a situation/topic for me. As I have proven myself to be somewhat of a loner over the years and generally not ‘needing’ people as much as others. But still I feel myself to be a friendly person, and more so now as I feel suddenly uncomfortable after 6 months of living in this abode with these other two people that seem to have a form of leprosy that requires them to only converse in one sentence parables (that’s when they are in jovial spirits – or alcohol induced spirits..). The doors are kept to maximum security, breaching this strict code of conduct (leaving the door open) would result in an outbreak of the social leprosy. In thinking about it, I am glad they have been so considerate to think of me so kindly in isolating themselves so I would not acquire the unhappy fore mentioned disease. Yes nice people after all I suppose. Thank you, my kind flat mates, and may you find a cure for your leprosy soon.