White
Adam and Quinn
Living in a world of white--of white walls, of white curtains, white chairs, white teeth and
white eyes. How easily we can stain. My addiction does not stain me. It is the pain that leaves a
yellow mark. The pain: the pain of worthlessness, loss of control, loss of emotion or feeling.
But it is white that I see. Sometimes the white is piercingly bright, and so stretched out that
nothing will ever come of it--because I see my future planned out for me in plain sight. Other
times the white falters, and there are specks of other shades, still white, but other shades. Shades
of eggshell, cream, porcelain--will I ever escape? These other shades might lend some hope, but
the piercing White of all Whites will erase them, erase me, of all hope, all purity, all happiness.
I’ve been doing this my entire life. It’s safe to say I’m addicted, and I need help. The first
time I did it, I was in New York. Ever since then, I would search the East Coast, looking for the
best. The East just doesn’t have enough and isn’t very good. I made up my mind. I’m going out
west where they have the best in country, and I’ll get my fix sure enough. Everyone in my
family does it, but I am the only one out of control. I dream about white everywhere. Every
penny I get goes to its fund. I have so many things I don’t need, but I love them. My mom’s
coming out to visit me this week, and I plan to show her everything. I’ve even succumbed to be
a bartender in order to pay my dues. I work all day. I get high all night. I work right by where I
can get my fix, so it’s convenient for me. I can’t help myself.
I have no money because I spend it all on lift tickets or new snowboards or even a new jacket
at least twice a year. I love the high I get from getting on the chairlift and speeding down the
mountain. I hate having to work because the bar overlooks the mountain. I’m going through
withdrawal even though I went yesterday. I need out. The lines are too long. Oh God! Help me,
what’s going on? I made enough tips to get my pass today. I’m ready to go again. No, I can’t. I
have to stop. One last time? No. Yes. I don’t know. It can’t be maybe? I have to. I can’t. i’m
weak. i’m going snowboarding right now.
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