Bob back up

  Hello, my name is Bob. That's not my real name, but fuck my real name; correction Butt Fuck my real name; who cares. So let me tell you a little about myself, male, havn't looked in a mirror in I forget how long, can't grow a beard, wear clothes only because I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't, and typing this shit out because I have nothing better to do and so far the computer hasn't tried to stab me in the eye like the toaster did; threw that son of a bitch off the roof.
  Okay, so I thought I'd keep this nifty journal from now on. So a little about myself, okay fuck that, a little about where I live/reside/exist/try not to be brutalized by society. Its an apartment, its a BUNCH of floors off street level. I never counted. Its two bedrooms, one bath, and a living space. My bedroom has nothing in it, there is a closet with no doors, three shelves, and I sleep on a futon with one pillow in the corner of the room as far as I can get from both the door and the window without being in the middle of the room. I have no dressors, no suit cases, and just the one set of clothes I wear every single day; I should try to get more, but I'm not sure its worth it, maybe I'll do that later just so I have something to keep a journal about; yeah; thumbs up, hash tag I can't believe I'm bored enough to entertain that thought.
   Okay so the window is pretty big, I keep it shut, keep the curtains and blinds closed, and never ever touch them. I turn the light off the second it goes dark out and curl up trying to go to sleep despite the deafening silence outside that is only ever broken up either by the sounds of gunfire, explosions, or screams.
   The other bedroom is a mystery, the door is locked from the inside and I occassionally hear something big moving around in there; sounds like it might have wings, and the window is defenitly open. Its not there every day, just like on occassion, but the second I hear that tapping, its time to hit the floor and not move; I know if I don't hear it leave by nightfall I have to try and sleep in the living room. It never comes out into the apartment, one time I heard something screaming in there, some kind of animal, pretty sure it was eating the animal.
   Any who, happier thoughts; so the apartment's bathroom. The bathroom has a medicine cabinet with no door on it; by the way aside from the bedroom doors and the door to the apartment and patio door; there are no other doors. Any ways, the bathroom has this one big jacuzzi bathtub/show thing I'd never seen before and its tried to drown me three times so fuck that thing I've stopped trying to wash up. The kitchen used to have a toaster, a fridge, and a microwave. Back when I first "moved in" the microwave would make laughing sounds when turned on, really loud and creepy so I stopped using it; the fridge had this icy vortex thing going on so I knocked it over, it sits on its face permanently now, and the toaster sprung to life and tried to stab me in the eye. So the one and only time I ever left the apartment I carried that thing out to the stairway in the hallway, to the roof and threw it over the edge. I think I thought I was having a nightmare at the time but the pain was real; and the city; was...well...not something I think about anymore, nope.
   So my day starts when its sunny out, I get up and go into the apartment. Because A I'm afraid something might notice me in that room by the window in the day time more readily than lying on the floor at night in the dark; and B because I get bored and this is the closest thing to excitement I can get without risking horrific bodily harm.