Open bags of tobacco line the circular table at the center of the room, juxtaposing the abandoned Chipotle cup, discarded ash, and bits of orange peels.
If the house is trashed, you can guarantee that this specific table is trashed as well. Though, the boys hardly ever seem to mind. Some even argue that the trash is embedded into the ambiance of the house.
Mango, born and raised in Thailand and one of the more domestic boys, can be ironically found defending his orange peel addition as if to claim he actively laid it on the cushion next to him.
He loves a good citrus smell, he’ll say.
To him, the peel acts as a sort of potpourri. To me, the peel represents how bad their trash actually is. Because it is that much more pleasant than the other trash, the peal has elevated from waste status to be praised as a sort of freshness.
This is very tame trash compared to the unidentified remains inside the red plastic cup…
The red plastic cup has practically become a permanent addition to the house’s decoration.
It is a standalone display piece.
There is always at least one lurking around the corner. Whether it is on this circle table, kitchen counter, or unintentionally and carelessly pushed literally into a corner, you can almost guarantee its presence. Each cup’s lifespan is always far too long; they are the true lurkers of the house. There they sit, scattered, containing remnants of last night’s Natty Lite crystalizing to the bottom. The brightly colored cup contrasts its clouded moldy contents. And, during parties, red cups line nearly every surface possible, creating the illusion of an art display.
Trash art is a telling illustration of the waste the boys leave behind; the trash thrown to the side almost too overwhelming to be accidental, as if intentionally distributed throughout the house. Yet, disappointingly, it is not.