Witty Profiles

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I’ve always said that you can tell my emotional state by the state of my room or car.
If they’re a mess, then my mind is a mess-
crawling with thoughts constantly dragging my attention away from reality.
If my room is neat, pristine, organized, well then I would be worried.
My mind is never silent.
It’s always active, always darting back to a new thought like a tongue to a hole from a  freshly pulled tooth.
But in my mess, there is an organization that no one else can spot.
For instance, my nail polish is always under the left-hand side of my bed,
just like how my earrings are always scattered in the carpet by my closet door.
Most people look at my room and can’t find a clear piece of flooring to walk on.
My mother looks at my room and sees clutter,
and my father sees a fire waiting to happen with my tangle of cords for my numerous lamps and chargers.
I see comfort.
I see a place where I can relax.
I see a place I can get away from the world.
I see more secrets than a diary, and more tears than a funeral home.
I see more sleepless nights than a solider at war,
and I see more random bursts of inspiration than an artist.
My room is a world away from the world.
My room is my own reality.
So, when I refuse to clean my room, and others get mad at me, I feel truly frustrated.
It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else.
They won’t see the blood that has dripped onto my pillow from slicing my wrist open at one in the morning,
and they won’t see the smiles that come from last night skype sessions with friends.
They won’t see all the times my stuffed animals came to life.
And they won’t see the dreams I have created.
My room is my reverie.
Cleaning it would be destroying it.
I only wish more people understood. 
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I’ve always said that you can tell my emotional state by

2 faves · Apr 11, 2016 7:48pm





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