Roses in Heaven

Chapter 1: The Unhappy Life

I stretched out, cracking my back and rubbed the nape of my neck.
I really didn't wanted to get out of my literal comfort zone because it was Saturday and we all sleep in during weekends, but I have a busy day for my latest art piece. I rolled out of my bed, lazily walking to the bathroom; wrenching the shower faucets on, letting the water warm up. I scrubbed and rinsed my body with Irish Spring soap.
With my hair, it was with Dove Men's shampoo. After I was done, I dried myself off with the fluffiest towel.
I went to the sink to brush my teeth until they sparkled a pearly-white.
Staring at the stranger in the mirror, I realized that guy is me. I'm a slim, medium-height dude whose skin is as pale as polished ivory and has zero chest hair, except the small bits around my bubblegum-pink nipples. My attributes were always recognizable by so many people by the long straight nose, a nicely trimmed beard that made me feel comfortable, and my unusually large eyes of baby-blue. I opened my mouth very wide to see nothing but a dark, moist cave with small white rocks known as my teeth. Then a slimy pink snake slithered out; that was my tongue, of course.
I opened my medicine cabinet to pop some pills in my mouth. And now I'm supposing you don't know what these pills are for, reader. I have depression after the death of my ex-girlfriend Megan. Just even thinking about it makes my life twice unhappy. I slide on some fresh boxers and applied deodorant in my armpits. The next thing I did was put on some clothes and soon went to the living room, seeing my half-painted canvas. I do multiple varieties of art from making an African mask to taking photographs of mannequins.
This time was of a regular portrait: a small child and its mother. All I want out of this useless world is another lover.