Life in a haze was not so bad. Living day to day, forgetting where you are or why you even exist...that was the easy way through life.
I was scrubbing down the white cabinets in the kitchen for the third time that week. Spotless, like I would never be. I thought I could still feel the tingling in my nostrils, the powder dust trapped in all the empty spaces. Caking itself into the holes in my heart.
Summer in the forest of New York was always something extraordinary. Memorable, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. It had been a full year since my mother had sent me out into the streets, convinced I would be the ruin of her. Apparently giving your all just wanst enough these days.
And now I was here, standing at the crossroad of all I had known and all that was yet to come. Twelve months ago, I'd never imagined that this might be my life, wasting away in a paradise haze, freeloading in a penthouse with seven guys.
It wasnt as slutty as it sounded. I had always gotten on better with guys. And we were sort of like one messed up family. I guess everyone needed to be taken care of in some way, and we were all just here to do the best we could.
Sure, we all played our little parts in the game that was life. And it never got easier, not really. But it was bearable, sometimes, and that was when it counted. Like now, forcing all my energy and concentration in removing the spots that had never even been there. It would help me to sober up. Bring me back to the real world.
Melt the summertime snow.