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About this sample
About this sample
Words: 713 |
Pages: 2|
4 min read
Published: Oct 25, 2021
Words: 713|Pages: 2|4 min read
Published: Oct 25, 2021
You know how everyone has that one place where they can totally be themselves? For me, that's my room. It's nothing fancy - just a regular bedroom in our apartment, but it's like my own little universe where everything makes sense.
So my room isn't huge or anything - probably like 12 by 15 feet. But I've somehow managed to turn every corner into something meaningful. There's this old desk by the window that I've had since high school. It's kind of beaten up, but it's where I've written all my papers and, let's be real, spent way too many hours watching Netflix.
My walls are pretty much my personality on display. I've got this collage of concert tickets and photos that's been growing since freshman year. Mom keeps saying I should "organize it better," but I think the chaos kind of works. Each ticket and photo has its own story, like that time my friends and I got soaked waiting in line for a concert that ended up being totally worth it.
The best part is this cozy corner I've created with an old beanbag chair (rescued from a garage sale) and these string lights I got on sale after Christmas. It's where I do most of my reading, scrolling through social media, or just thinking about life. The lights make everything look kind of magical, especially at night.
My bookshelf is honestly a mess but in the best way possible. It's got everything from my old Harry Potter books (still can't part with them) to college textbooks that cost way too much. Between the books, there's random stuff I've collected - like this little jade elephant my grandma gave me and some rocks from different places I've visited.
My window doesn't face anything spectacular - just the apartment building next door and a bit of sky. But there's this one tree right outside, and I've kind of gotten attached to it. It's like my personal calendar - bare in winter, green in spring, and super colorful in fall.
What really makes my room special is how it feels when I walk in after a long day. Everything just sort of... exhales, you know? The familiar smell (probably my lavender air freshener), the way my bed is always a little messy because making it perfectly is overrated, and even the creak in the floorboard by the door - it's all part of home.
This is where I do all my thinking, creating, and sometimes just existing. Whether I'm working on assignments, FaceTiming friends, or having a minor crisis about my future, my room's got my back. The walls have probably heard more of my random singing than anyone else.
It's funny how the small things end up meaning the most. Like the dent in the wall from when I tried to rearrange furniture at 2 AM (bad idea), or the plant that somehow hasn't died yet despite my questionable plant-parenting skills.
My room isn't perfect - it needs dusting more often than I'd like to admit, and yeah, maybe I should organize my closet better. But it's perfectly mine. It's where I can be completely myself, whether that means dancing like nobody's watching (they're not), crying over a bad grade, or celebrating small victories. It's more than just four walls - it's my safe space, my think tank, and my favorite place to be.
P.S. Writing this made me realize I should probably clean my room this weekend. But even when it's messy, it's still the best place ever.
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