My room tells the truth just about me It can be rattling obstinate to imagine that material things reveal a persons personality, after(prenominal) all a bedrooms just were you sleep isnt it? But to me thats non the case.
Firstly I can control it, but more importantly it is a place of refuge from twenty-four hour period to day bustle. My room contains all of my worldly possessions and is the only place in life that is completely and utterly left to me to do as I wish with. It is an exhibit of my inner secrets and habits.
As you fancy my room you will be struck by the distinct untidiness. This is be wee-wee of the day-by-day build-up of unorganised medley, spread from corner to corner of this humble home like a minefield, along with the constant mound of mutual rugger kit, and crumpled and foetid trails of expended casual apparel.
The unwashed rugby kit shows my love of sport, including the great outdoors, and the fact I do not mind getting dirty for a cause I savour. On the other hand, the crumpled casual clothes show that I am active, but that I enjoy my leisure time and indeed, freedom from the burden of work and chores.
This soiled, yucky pile of garments, is hardly ever moved; left to uprise into this mountainous accumulation, reinforcing my sluggishness and hatred of labour.
School is a major part of my life and my room reflects this. A big glob of my room is dedicated solely to it, to show the truth about how important I feel school is. School is the entrée to a better life, so, although it seems a monotonous job doing provision etc, I regard it as a worthwhile sacrifice.
The adjoining most noticeable thing about my bedroom, completely cover by...
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