OTHER BLOGS I OWN:
My bedroom taught me to be myself.
Doubtless, it may not be as spacious as the bedroom of the princesses in the castles. Or, it may not be as well-decorated bedroom as those of the higher class elite teenager. Or, as cozy than those of a luxurious hotel. But I tell you, my room fits a commoner like me. And every time I am inside it, I don’t need good grades, sophisticated beauty or a magnificent talent, just me and my dreams is the only thing that matters. I can always be someone I like to be. Instantly and quickly. Having a not-so-big bed to carry my lazy body all through out the day up to night, would be perfectly fine. Together with an air conditioning unit or a good quality electric fan just to avoid those perspiration to perspire every time I dance to my rhythm in my room, would be enough. Furthermore, having a dresser to fix myself when I instantly want to be a ultimate diva would be more than enough. But of course, I have to have a laptop because this is my ticket to the bizarre world of those people who weird and beautiful in their own different ways.
If there is someone to judge me, no one has the right but all those things that lived inside my room. For they see everything that happened to me all through the ages. They saw me weird, mad, happy, sad, miserable, desperate and excited. They saw those weird looks on my face whenever I get irritated with my friends. Those mad nerves on my neck that nearly break every time I get out of control. Those happy giggles when I first fell in love. Those sad face when I wait in vain for his disregarded promises. Those miserable sobs when I got my first heart broken. Those desperate tries to kill myself. Those excited eyes that twinkled when I moved on. Memories and everything, it was only my room who witnessed it all.
If there is someone to get irritated with me, no one has the right but all those things that lived in my room. For, I overuse my room too much. I stay there almost half of the time I have, I eat there, I regain sleep there, I dream there, I draw there, I read there, I sing and dance, I watch movie there, I laugh there, and I cried there. I even smashed, threw and destroy the things inside when I am mad. If the things inside my room can just say any word, they would tell me how much irritated they are in my face because they never had the chance to be alive because I am always there like as if I am their own security guards. And above all, I don’t clean my room. I leave it in chaos, and I live in it chaotically.
I don’t have to pay luxurious hotel for my comfort nor a workshop to make me the best of all those talented individuals internationally. Because nothing in this world can replace the comfort my bedroom gives, and when I am in my room, I can be the best among the best, without even trying to be the next Lady Gaga or next Katy Perry, I just have to be the first me.