Room

My room is like a valley surrounded by mounds--I mean mountains--of stuff--from valuables and commonplace belongings to random shit and garbage. If we enter from the southwest corner then we may proceed to the unoccupied center if the door opens wide enough, there might be a rather large pile of dirty laundry hiding behind the door barring a clean entrance. Under the pile lies an old Christmas box filled with the books I've kept and completed. Farther north on the west wall there are three stacked tubs for general storage purposes (filing, supplies, clutter control). Adjacent to these tubs on the north wall is another book shelf, consisting of books which I've not began. The books that I've not finished are on my desk along with a collection of other things such as a printer, my new computer box, my old broken computer, vitamins, random books (from a Spanish dictionary to old class texts), The Wire, and many other things which have accumulated into these mounds over time. Further east on the north wall are my hats, each having its own tack, which are probably the most organized thing in the room. On the floor below is my bedside table. Think of a downsized desk in terms of both actual size and clutter-wise. Then we come to the bed hugging the east wall, merely a mattress with several pillows, a comforter and single sheet. Below the bed's foot is the clean clothes pile, directly in front of the closet having plenty of unused clothes hangers. Those clothes yearning to be hung up are more likely to find the west wall mound first. There are a couple things hanging on each wall; movie posters, band posters, sports paraphernalia, etc. The room is so messy that my words aren't quite justifying the severity of the situation.

Whenever I enter my room it's like the valley is hit with a wind storm which further complicates its already messy conditions. I live in the valley because I'm tedious to explore the mountains of things. Oh the things I would find.