My Space
Whenever I twist my rather cool brass doorknob, I soon enter into what I call my heaven. I immediately plop on my bed and wrap myself tight in my cozy, warm, pink blanket. As I sit in my bed wrapped tight in my cozy, pink blanket, I gaze around my room and notice all of the things that are there. Looking to my left, my salmon-pink wall is covered by a large, silver floor length mirror. Beside my mirror is a pink and white clock that ticks and tocks throughout the day and night. In front of my bed, there is a dresser that holds all of my girly things. My dressers holds many perfumes,lotions, facial masks, and moisturizers. On the same wall beside my dresser there is a large, rectangular shaped window with sparkly pink curtains. The wall in front of me is full of thousands of memories. My photos, painted pictures, certificates, tickets, photos of me ,and my friends and family. The wall looks as if someone has taken my brain, thrown it in a blender and splashed it on the wall. The wall contains the bits and pieces of my entire life. Near my memories there hangs my shiny silver TV. Every part of my room is what makes me. My imagination, my sanity, my love, my peace ,and all my hopes and dreams are all inside of my room.
The writer’s place seems to describe their room. Every second the writer spends inside is enjoyable because of the photo possessions and personal favorite materials such as their bed, blanket, and beauty products. The “space” is important to the writer; it contains memories and possessions that mean something valuable as described by what’s on the walls and furniture. Every aspect of that space represents the writer and defines them. It is relatable as a room has things peculiar to a person, I too see it as heaven whenever I enter my own.