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The m|
light a|
therea|
more |

Nowa|
haven|
been |
remai|
which|

Perha|
me ha|
now i|

I'd lo|

Utterly resigned|
door begins top|
would have bee|
powerless as wi|
life is folded up|

I catch fleeting|
confused, inco|
be gone compl|
not parts of the|

Did I deserve ti|
arrogance of m|
human's life an|
toward my fate|

If there is a wa|
will. That you |

More of me is gone each day. Th|
asleep, or if he's keeping at it dur|
and his tricky little hand motions|

I can tell that other people aren't|
the lunch ladies when I'm trying |
that isn't here, it's just hard to ge|

It is a lot like falling asleep, real|
the patterns of the day. It's just a|
until it's over, and I find out wh|

Now there is no getting around it. My roommate has begu|
existence! The final folding as begun. Just as part of my ro|
smaller and bit of it began to disappear, now it's happening|
experience, my memories. I can feel a portion of them mis|
day, and my roommate begins to fold me out of existence.|

I guess I've become to just accept it. My calls to the admin|
as I attempted to reach out to the RA or @Jeremiah the Hu|
could tell I just wasn't connecting. Now I realize it's becau|
started folding my space in, and I was growing smaller, mo|

There's nothing left now but to accept my inevitable shrinka|
demise as my the time-space that defines who I am is folded|
have never guessed that my existence would be erased throu|

But, it's not like I'm actually being destroyed, right? The spa|
to be going away, but it's still somewhere, right? Will I be u|
other, better place? All I can do now is await the final fold. |

I am so mad I could chew nails. My roommate is now using his space folding to make my side of the room smaller. I hit my head on the ceiling over my bed, and now have a nasty egg growing out of my forehead to show for it. And the walls on my side have grown so close I have to squeeze my body through to even get to my bed! I am now unable open my perfectly organized drawers all the way with out banging into the opposite wall, which makes placing my folded socks in their appropriate positions nearly impossible.

I had that slob jock of an excuse for an RA come into my room to measure it, so I could file a formal complaint, but he is obviously in on the little "joke" because the tape measure he used said everything was exactly proportional as it should be. He showed me the measurements with his magic shrinking tape measure but I don't believe them for a second.

@Jeremiah the Hunch, I implore you to come and speak to my roommate as soon as possible. Or help me go above the RA's head and bring this issue before the council. His space folding is absolutely encroaching on the contractual promises made to me as a student to experience my dimensions exactly as advertised in the Psyhigh recruitment brochure, and I am contemplating a law suit against the school as well as my roommate, my RA, and the entire enabling sham that allows these Space Folding types to run roughshod over the god-given inalienable rights to have control over the proportions of space around them!

Well I spoke to the RA and he was not helpful at all. Plus, he was a slob and his room was a mess. Just some lazy jock who didn't want to get involved, and wasn't interested at all in my feelings, or the danger I am quite obviously in.

He suggested (and I seriously can not believe this) that it wasn't my roommate's Space Folding that was the "problem," but that there were "issues" that he and I could "discuss" and come to a "compromise" on. I am steaming mad at the lack of attention to very serious safety issues going on in this school. Oooooo it burns me up!

So what are these "issues?"

1) My roommate is a pig. He refuses to use the places for shoes near the door that I have demarcated with colored electrical tape. In fact, he frequently does not take off his shoes at all!

2) My roommate takes up the entire couch when he's sitting there. We are lucky enough to have a couch in our room, and while it is not large, when he sits in it he sits like he owns it and leaves no room for me.

3) My roommate ignores me. He'll go on and on on his phone with his friends about his day, and what their plans are, but when I ask him where he's going and if I can come along, he acts like I am not even there.

4) My roommate says that there was a Kevin I, but he didn't like him, so he folded him up and folded out me, Kevin II, from the intra-dimensional fabric. And if he gets irritated enough with me, he'll fold me up into his hexa-flexa reality whatevers and unfold Kevin III.

You can see why I am so irked! I can not believe that Psyhigh does not have an adequate system in place to handle this kind of problem, because obviously there are a lot of young people here with powers that could potentially get out of control, and with the kind of money my parents are paying for my experience here they really should have a better system in place.

He can take the time to fold space, but not to fold his own clothes..... Grrrrrr ......

Yes @Jeremiah the Hunch, what exactly would an "intervention" entail? I mean he gets great grades in class for his folding.... Why would he lay off in his free time?

I'm afraid the only thing that's really going to turn him is an accident of some kind. I just don't want to be there when it happens.

Maybe what I should be doing is talking to my counselor about a room transfer?

My roommate keeps folding reality, and it's starting to wear thin.

First of all, he's a lazy pig. Leaves his dirty clothes everywhere. Leaves half-eaten burritos in the couch.

When I mention it, and point it out the stinky sock, or the molding ramen container, he doesn't pick it up. Instead, he grabs a piece of reality - like it's a tablecloth - and tugs it and tucks it over and seals it like a pie crust.

Voila! It's gone! But it's not. I mean, it's got to go somewhere, right? It's still there, just cut off in its own little hot pocket, right behind a little fold. Rotting, I assume.

He's done it so much, the room is starting to shrink. It's like a little cabin on a ship now. And tight, like living inside a balloon.

I'm afraid it's going to pop.