My ex roommate always teased me about my wardrobe. I had more white in there than the Alps. Almost everything I owned was white. White shirts, white t-shirts, white kurtis. All white. Pristine and perfect and white.
And white’s my favourite colour, so I guess it’s as good an excuse as any.
Today, I put on a pair of coloured pants and thought, oh well, it’ll work cause I’ll just throw on one of my many white tops, and it’ll be okay. And then I opened my wardrobe and went white as a sheet. I had not a single piece of white clothing left. Not one scrap of white in my cupboard.
I had changed, one white shirt at a time. And I didn’t even see it coming. My life was a white noise machine. It drowned everything. It bled me white. It made all my white clothes disappear. Disappear from right underneath me.
Did I mention white was my favourite colour. White IS my favourite colour.