Walking in, you’ll first notice the modern fashion in which my room has been styled. The walls are painted a cool gray, and the ash-colored floorboards are fashioned with a light-to-dark gradient. Light streams in through three windows, which are all adorned with white or gray curtains.
My two tennis racquets lean against the wall near the doorway, almost hidden by my bulky backpack. Their handles are grimy, and they boast slightly bent strings from the four years of use they’ve endured.
A varnished wooden dresser stands next to my racquets. It’s pearly white with black knobs on the drawers. Its wide shape and square corners give it a plain aura; despite its size, it’s easy to pass by.
One thing you won’t pass by, however, is the colorful mess on top of it— the top of the dresser is scattered with forgotten trinkets and miscellaneous items. Fancy bujo notebooks with cartoony designs and pastel planners stack themselves messily atop the drawer. A blue, hand-painted gumball machine sits on the edge of the drawer. Golden, star-shaped sequins shine on the machine, and light glints off the circular glass sphere containing colorful gumballs. A rectangular plaque with my picture announces my participation in a soccer camp from 4th grade. The gold-embossed symbol in the left corner proudly displays a soccer ball in front of the US flag. Next to the plaque is a memory box. A picture on the front face of the box depicts me and my mother smiling at the camera in our old apartment in New York.
Besides my drawer, my blankets lay crumpled on my bed. A stuffed whale I’d gotten as an elementary graduation gift sits on my pillow. Worn clothes hang from my bed rails.
Pushed against the east wall is a medium-sized table. It’s also white to fit in with my room’s modernity and sits in front of a large window. My sketchbooks and easel are stacked there, ready to be used. Close to the table is a triple-layer cart, which overflows with paintbrushes, watercolors, and sketch tools.
On the south wall, my bookshelves and desk are neatly placed. Two bookshelves stand on both sides of my desk, overflowing with math, science, and language textbooks. My desk often looks as if a hurricane passed by, with books and papers tipping off the edges of the table. An occasional wind from windows on both sides of my desk often causes quite a mess of scattered papers on the floor. Two built-in drawers reveal even more of a disorder and my secret enjoyment— stationary.
Shoved in the corner between the south and west wall is a large armchair, complete with a cushy footrest. The set is colored a creamy cappuccino brown that brings a homey feel to my otherwise gray and white room.
On the west wall hangs a large whiteboard, covering more than half the wall. The board is usually covered with scribbles of unfinished math problems. A certificate for a writing competition I won in elementary hangs flamboyantly by a heart-shaped “I Love to Save Water” magnet.
The air humidifier hums in the corner, where it is plugged into the wall. The stray neighborhood cats yowl outside my window, and the fence shakes audibly as they leap in and out of our yard. There is the faint sound of the dishwasher running, the noise almost fading into the background.
Home sweet home.
My two tennis racquets lean against the wall near the doorway, almost hidden by my bulky backpack. Their handles are grimy, and they boast slightly bent strings from the four years of use they’ve endured.
A varnished wooden dresser stands next to my racquets. It’s pearly white with black knobs on the drawers. Its wide shape and square corners give it a plain aura; despite its size, it’s easy to pass by.
One thing you won’t pass by, however, is the colorful mess on top of it— the top of the dresser is scattered with forgotten trinkets and miscellaneous items. Fancy bujo notebooks with cartoony designs and pastel planners stack themselves messily atop the drawer. A blue, hand-painted gumball machine sits on the edge of the drawer. Golden, star-shaped sequins shine on the machine, and light glints off the circular glass sphere containing colorful gumballs. A rectangular plaque with my picture announces my participation in a soccer camp from 4th grade. The gold-embossed symbol in the left corner proudly displays a soccer ball in front of the US flag. Next to the plaque is a memory box. A picture on the front face of the box depicts me and my mother smiling at the camera in our old apartment in New York.
Besides my drawer, my blankets lay crumpled on my bed. A stuffed whale I’d gotten as an elementary graduation gift sits on my pillow. Worn clothes hang from my bed rails.
Pushed against the east wall is a medium-sized table. It’s also white to fit in with my room’s modernity and sits in front of a large window. My sketchbooks and easel are stacked there, ready to be used. Close to the table is a triple-layer cart, which overflows with paintbrushes, watercolors, and sketch tools.
On the south wall, my bookshelves and desk are neatly placed. Two bookshelves stand on both sides of my desk, overflowing with math, science, and language textbooks. My desk often looks as if a hurricane passed by, with books and papers tipping off the edges of the table. An occasional wind from windows on both sides of my desk often causes quite a mess of scattered papers on the floor. Two built-in drawers reveal even more of a disorder and my secret enjoyment— stationary.
Shoved in the corner between the south and west wall is a large armchair, complete with a cushy footrest. The set is colored a creamy cappuccino brown that brings a homey feel to my otherwise gray and white room.
On the west wall hangs a large whiteboard, covering more than half the wall. The board is usually covered with scribbles of unfinished math problems. A certificate for a writing competition I won in elementary hangs flamboyantly by a heart-shaped “I Love to Save Water” magnet.
The air humidifier hums in the corner, where it is plugged into the wall. The stray neighborhood cats yowl outside my window, and the fence shakes audibly as they leap in and out of our yard. There is the faint sound of the dishwasher running, the noise almost fading into the background.
Home sweet home.