My Roommate, The Orange

By Ahmed Latif

It must be said that there has never been a more idyllic roommate in the long and proud history of poor peoples brought together to cohabitate than my current roommate.

They have a delightfully sunny disposition, even on a cloudy morning. They are brimming with positive energy; not POS (Piece of Shite) energy but truly positive energy.  They act as though they have never tasted defeat but they damn well have. And you know that type of person that refuses to allow being broken to change them; sincere as the whole of the world. They look as though they are about to break into song and belt out some some verses from madam Nina Simone about how they wish they knew how it would feel to be free. 

They are uniquely positioned in their life. It’s not that all their difficulties are behind them but they are well-equipped for what is to come, at the very least that is the unspoken feeling they give off. They are beyond the point where they were once besieged by anger. They are at peace with their fate and they are loving their flavour of life. But at the same time, they’ll turn to pulp at the slightest indication that tings are not going according to their best laid plans. I don’t know how normal that is, but it feels unique to me. To be at peace about losing it, and still going to pieces when you lose it. Don’t get me wrong, I understand someone who is able to trip and fall flat on their face and laugh about it. But to be able to get up, carry on, and laugh about something you have seemingly forgotten, well that is a bit out of the ordinary. And ordinary my roommate is not.

This may seem like a gross overstep to all of youse but my roommate smells phenomenal. I have asked what they are using and they have always rebuttaled (is that a word?) I am not sure, I think rebuttal may be a noun. But doesn’t it mean the act of rebutting? So how is it not a verb? English perplexes me, honestly. How us Irish took to this damned language and brought song and life to it, is an immaculate and beautiful ting. Anyway, my roommate always said it was just their natural scent. And I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable so I didn’t pry further. 
​
The only unfortunate ting about my roommate is their ability to pay rent is absolute shite. Bright and full of wonder, they are. Useful under dire threat from capitalist landowners raising prices, they are not.

But this has been a mighty useful lesson to me. That you can love life, be merry, be alive and present in the moment, that you can be delightful and a joy to be around; that you can be squeezed of everything you have and still be treated as though you have nothing to offer society because you simply don’t have means. There is no measure of value better than the light you delight in: for those specials, they make chaos out of order and order out of chaos, they don’t need to make money. Them souls are free.