I don’t talk about my bedroom much. It’s my favorite room of the house (the kitchen being close second) despite the fact that I don’t spend much time in there. My bedroom is solely for sleeping, prepping for the day, prepping for the night, and more-frequent-than-I-would-like-to-admit private dance performances.
That’s really what it comes down to. My room feels very private to me- like my own inner sanctum. I don’t take pictures in it. Even the cats aren’t allowed in (mostly because they think it’s their god-given purpose to knock shit over in my closet).
My room is also filled with my treasures- beyond my favorite books, my clothes, and the other things that carry me through daily existence, there are a few things that I can’t imagine I won’t be holding onto forever. Just because I’m attached to them. Continue reading “In My Room and Close to My Heart”