The Room

Okayy good evening Amigos! As all of you already know me to be an inhabitant of a hostel, you fellas might be interested to find out about my room and its current state. In my objective opinion, I promulgate that it is of 'live-able' condition, though I anticipate many begging to differ by attaching adjectives such as deplorable and dilapidated in respect to my room. As there is always room for otherwise impressions, I choose to maintain reticence on this and proceed with words of description that would hopefully do justice to its state in the absence of pictures(explicit graphic content). Besides adumbrating the physical situation of this living premise, I'd also express my persuasions and sentiments on why it is like that and why I am completely satisfied with its condition.

In a thousand words: Upon entrance of this room and within the closest of proximities, a sink is situated to my left and directly oppositie it lies a 'makeshift' wardrobe which would probably scare the hell out of the lion and the witch. With further progression (2 steps ahead) lies the main part of the room where clothes and reading material are strewn all over the expanse(a very far fetched illusion of space). The bed is strategically placed at a corner of the room so I can comfortably nestle myself at the corner while using my computer on my bed-in-breakfast table(my purchase of 2007). Unlike the conventional function of a table, which is for work or to support a computer, I use it as a 'convenience depot' where grab and go items like my ipod reside on it. As I don't have a bedside table, I've turned my chair into one. Besides clothes, there're also other interesting items on the floor, such as my telephone, water boiler and electric toothbrush becasue their connecting wires aren't long enough for them to be placed on the table. And for the record, it's also little wonder why my curtains are ever so steadfastly drawn haha.

So as you've read, the bed is the central focus of my room. Nearly all activity is done and operated from my bed(control station). Yes, that includes the occasions where I study too and you might wonder why. First, the chair is just too damn uncomfortable as compared to the bed where pillows and the duvet just pave the way for the ultimate study experience. Yet, as expected, it naturally begs this question: How are these amenities conducive to constructive study since the slumberous effects are pretty much efficacious? Well, I like to employ reverse psychology on myself by emanating the 'positive mental element' of vigilance to triumph over my astronomically high threshold level of lethargy and slothfulness. Empirically, I've succeeded thus far. Next, exists the subject of maximizing space and resource. After converting my table to the convenience depot I earlier mentioned, I also used the 2 seats in my room as tables. So do I use the unoccupied portion of my bed to rest my books. Viola! The total surface area of occupancy has increased by a fair bit!

The vox populi(thanks V for teaching me that term), more relevantly of the parents of the world, is that a disarrayed room genearlly represents the disorganization and disorder that is imbued in ones life. In contrast to that, I'd rather propose that we learn to live practically and do our best to improve what affects us most. Pertinent to my case, dwells these desires of comfort and convenience, which are perfectly rational excellences to strive for instead of a less meaningful 'cosmetic' drive. What I've done is simply to make my life better as opposed to being dysfunctional and disorderly- In essence, I am living in an organised mess. I know exactly where my things are and how to get them in the shortest possible time in this intricate 'mess.' Of course, despite the physical randomness of arrangements(euphemism for mess), I'm nevertheless particular about health as well as sanitariness and I take extreme measures to keep myself from filth. To wit, I use chopsticks to handle crisps or tortilla chips because I don't like salt and oil to take residence between my nails and skin cuticle.

As you might already be convinced, I'm wholly satisfied with the way things are. Yet, there is really more, even so my existing content, to this cradle I nestle in. It is in this medium can I immerse myself in solace in face of the most disconcerting of times and get tranquilized from the pervading feverishness redolent of the maddening crowd. Being in my sanctuary truly grants me the great pleasure of being alone; I'm able to sort out my thoughts and issues without external influences, unrestraint and helplessly yielding to the emotions that pervade me, expounding on revelations learnt throughout the day as well as thriving on an imagination that unfaillingly brings an unparalleled satiation. Superfluous to that, being alone at home allows me to identify with the music i listen to and stuff I read. Above all, taking sanctuary lets me be totally, completely frank with myself. On a personal note, I, for some inexplicable reason, am not in the highest of spirits. Certainly of course, it doesn't give me good reason to directly rant in this blogspace on a whim. This is why I prefer to give vent to these sentiments by binging in philosophical thought and revelations and translating them to words for the carthasis to prevail. Therefore, in penning this entry down, I've also told you another story.

Though one may always seem to be in his cold, logical stupor, it's only a matter of time before his uncompromisable, final inch of humanity surfaces. The title of this entry is 'The Room,' and I'd dare say that it's impossible for one to always keep the door of his room closed to the lurking outdoors of vulnerability and susceptibility.
-Kenneth Wong