My Bedroom

My Bedroom; Descriptive Essay There is something very dear and important to me. Although it may not seem like something very significant it truly is. My room to me is extremely valuable plainly, because it is mine and it is the way I like it to be. There are so many of my possessions that make it mine and that make it unique and special to me. I would most certainly not like it any other way.

As I walk up the stairs in my house as I enter the door of my room, my room with its painted white walls and impure beige carpet, it is mess, and it is junk. I am free of school here no longer is the time demanding haste in my room I do as I please. My room is my sanctuary from the outside; it is four walls serving as the walls of my castle. My fortress against haste and hurry, school and teachers, as well as the assignments and projects haunt my sleep. My room it is a place of peace separate from hustle and bustle; indeed my room is full of quiet.

There is, in my room a towering brown closet, two white book shelves, a white cabinet with a glass panel, my squawking queen size bed, the dark blue curtains, my messy desk, and the dirty rug. For each of these there is a purpose in its existence; a reason in its being. As you enter into my room you are greeted by our two messy shelves to the right of you, and in front of you both of them full of odds and ends which outnumber the books themselves. The shelves line the brown closet to your right and my brown bed to the front you.

As you advance to the middle of my junk-filled room more of the furniture greets your eye. Behind you is a towering closet, and to your right is the white cabinet and my desk filled with cd's, video games, and mess piled up as well as my little cubby-hole full of stuff hidden away from view. In front of you are the blue curtains that protect me from prying eyes as I sleep, and finally below you is the rug greeting you with colored patterns covered with dust and grime.

My desk is full of things forgotten treasures of another day. I rarely use it, but I stack on it the homework of the day as I finish the day after a long day at school. My desk is the place I store my games and things I want to save. My desk serves as a means of storage and stacking it is original purpose rarely done. My desk is like many of the things in my room many serve as storage for the mess that consumes the whole room.

I find that my room is the lived in sort of room the type where you can tell that people have lived in it and have enjoyed living there. I like my room for it is full of fun and peace. Many a night I have read there during the hours before sleep. I think that my room is a place of refuge; indeed, it is safe from the troubles of the day. My room there is nothing like a place of refuge such as my room in a life full of activity and stress. My room is a real blessing to me, and I really appreciate having it.