Memories of the Waldorf Astoria

As I exit the cab outside the Astoria the air smells sweat and candy like this city was dressed in worn out sugar (Margiela SS 2011), and suddenly I remember.

I remember how it used to smell when me, mom, dad and Viktor used to arrive @ hotels late @ nights, with the distant sounds of the city around me. Stars and my parents towering in front of me.

Back when mom was mom and dad was dad. (And not a (sometimes) recovering alcoholic and a corpse.)