On My Room

And so the words reached me that my room is currently being dismantled. Yes, that humble private chamber in which I spent countless hours formulating dreams, works and world revolution. :) I always remember the room as a nice attempt of personification. When I'm not around, they use it as a practical dumping room, so much that it ended up with the capacity to accommodate two-four people nicely as both bedroom and workshop.. to my friends' glee.

There were a wardrobe that I have been using since my birth, a stone desk that had been around probably for seven decades before I was conceived. There were a bed from the year in which they granted me a personal room and a small desk given to me when I entered primary school. There's a wooden vanity five or six decades older than me, from the era when they still made those furniture insanely heavy and sturdy, like an airtight saving box (in fact, I've found some couple of poor cockroaches dried from suffocation before inside its cupboard). In short, a humble time capsule and a miniature wreck of everything.

I've seen its ground cracked (dividing the room almost in half. lousy ceramic placing.). I've seen its sky fell (complete with a nice flash waterfall). It has seen me (and my friends) through the most quirky moment. It has listened to the playlist I've come up with my old stereo every evening. It has kept me company in time of delight and sorrow.

When I get back there, some of it would have changed. Some of it would have stayed, though (I love the airtight cupboard so much). But then again, what doesn't? It would have to witness my post-a-level self too, anyway. So let's continue to get along, alright? And keep being nice to Ami, that perpetually playful companion of mine.