"gives this room in my mind in the future I will live in my memory a lot in this room"
Candles burned. Bottles of beer out of beer. A lamp without a genie. Empty fridge. Everything ends up in my room. Only the ashtray is always full. Projects abandoned in the corner behind the bed, dreams left on the desk gathering dust. Even the skeletons have escaped from the cabinet. The only certainties are the poster. And the basket of washing. Every time I want to do the laundry, washing machines are occupied by werewolves.
white sheets waiting to be inhabited by the colors, and Dadaist works hanging on the wall laugh at them. Near the door, a physical map of Germany. I have never endured the political map, each differently colored state and then the ugliest color touch always been the least "important." It is not to separate the distance, but a line. Every time I look at the stop point to the sky. There is so much to see in land.
little to the left, the light switch. I always thought it was a bit 'the g point of the room, as if every time he extinguished the lamps, the walls enjoyed. I can not even remember the exact intensity of light. Inside the white chandelier, swarms of mosquitoes died overnight during their battle for the sun. Sometimes I think that leaving the light off he has saved many. Other times I think I denied him the dream of reaching the sun.
bed. The point where I think I've broken all the commandments, you have satisfied all the seven deadly sins as someone province. The blue sheets torn do not know how in some nightmare a little 'retro. The mattress hard as a book by Bukowski I spent more than a sore back. The blanket too terribly I damn short on several occasions. The pillow was the closest thing to my dreams.
The only thing I will miss the bathroom shower curtains. Often I have considered as my alter ego. So easy to knock down a wall, a wall still wet from showers of spray shower, a wall so superficial. They never fully fulfilled their task, the terracotta tiles of the floor bathed forever. Just as well, the rag on the ground will not do ever spent.
Sometimes I wish that there was no window in my room. I would have an excuse to invent a world.
I spent a good time in this room. Really.