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My Room

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My Room; Descriptive Essay

May 22, 2009

My Room
As I walk up the stairs in my house, as I enter the door of my room。 My room, with its painted walls and chipping brown floors, it’s simple rug, its furnishings, it’s mess, and its junk。 I am free of school here, no longer is the bell demanding haste, in my room I do as I please. My room is my sanctuary from the outside; its four walls serving as the walls of my castle. My fortress against haste and hurry, school and teachers, as well as the assignments and projects haunt my sleep. My room it is a place of peace, separate from hustle and bustle; indeed, my room is full of quiet.

There is, in my room, a towering brown closet, two white book shelves, a white cabinet with a glass panel, my squawking loft bed, my brother’s loft bed, the green curtains, my messy desk, and the dirty rug. For each of these there is a purpose in its existence; a reason in its being. As you enter into my room, you are greeted by our two messy shelves, to the right of you, and in front of you, both of them full of odds and ends which outnumber the books themselves. The shelves line the brown closet, to your right and my silver bed to the front you.

As you advance to the middle of my junk-filled room, more of the furniture greets your eye. Behind you is towering closet, and to your right is the white cabinet and Kirk’s loft-bed sheltering his messes and his little makeshift desk on your left is my bed and my desk, each with their animals, junk, and mess covering each, as well as my little cubby-hole, full of stuff, hidden away from view. In front of you are the green curtains that protect us from prying eyes as we sleep and the door to the porch, and finally below you is the rug, greeting you with dinosaur pattern covered with dust and grime. Through the door is the porch, surrounded by bare walls and a cement floor. The porch oversees the street and our front yard, watching all the passersby.

My desk is full of things forgotten, treasures of another day. I rarely use it, but I stack on it the homework of the day as I finish the day after a long day at school. My desk is the place I store my games and things I want to save. My desk serves as a means of storage and stacking, its original purpose rarely done. My desk is like many of the things in my room, many serve as storage for the mess that consumes the whole room.

I find that my room is the lived in sort of room, the type where you can tell that people have lived in it and have enjoyed living there. I like my room, for it is full of fun and peace. Many a night I have read there during the hours before sleep. I think that my room is a place of refuge; indeed, it is safe from the troubles of the day. My room, there is nothing like a place of refuge, such as my room, in a life full of activity and stress. My room is a real blessing to me, and I really appreciate having it.

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    Vintageladner’s Blog

    Just another WordPress.com weblog

    • Home
    • About

    My Room; Descriptive Essay

    May 22, 2009

    My Room
    As I walk up the stairs in my house, as I enter the door of my room。 My room, with its painted walls and chipping brown floors, it’s simple rug, its furnishings, it’s mess, and its junk。 I am free of school here, no longer is the bell demanding haste, in my room I do as I please. My room is my sanctuary from the outside; its four walls serving as the walls of my castle. My fortress against haste and hurry, school and teachers, as well as the assignments and projects haunt my sleep. My room it is a place of peace, separate from hustle and bustle; indeed, my room is full of quiet.

    There is, in my room, a towering brown closet, two white book shelves, a white cabinet with a glass panel, my squawking loft bed, my brother’s loft bed, the green curtains, my messy desk, and the dirty rug. For each of these there is a purpose in its existence; a reason in its being. As you enter into my room, you are greeted by our two messy shelves, to the right of you, and in front of you, both of them full of odds and ends which outnumber the books themselves. The shelves line the brown closet, to your right and my silver bed to the front you.

    As you advance to the middle of my junk-filled room, more of the furniture greets your eye. Behind you is towering closet, and to your right is the white cabinet and Kirk’s loft-bed sheltering his messes and his little makeshift desk on your left is my bed and my desk, each with their animals, junk, and mess covering each, as well as my little cubby-hole, full of stuff, hidden away from view. In front of you are the green curtains that protect us from prying eyes as we sleep and the door to the porch, and finally below you is the rug, greeting you with dinosaur pattern covered with dust and grime. Through the door is the porch, surrounded by bare walls and a cement floor. The porch oversees the street and our front yard, watching all the passersby.

    My desk is full of things forgotten, treasures of another day. I rarely use it, but I stack on it the homework of the day as I finish the day after a long day at school. My desk is the place I store my games and things I want to save. My desk serves as a means of storage and stacking, its original purpose rarely done. My desk is like many of the things in my room, many serve as storage for the mess that consumes the whole room.

    I find that my room is the lived in sort of room, the type where you can tell that people have lived in it and have enjoyed living there. I like my room, for it is full of fun and peace. Many a night I have read there during the hours before sleep. I think that my room is a place of refuge; indeed, it is safe from the troubles of the day. My room, there is nothing like a place of refuge, such as my room, in a life full of activity and stress. My room is a real blessing to me, and I really appreciate having it.

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    Posted by vintageladner
    Filed in Uncategorized

    Leave a Comment »

    Leave a Reply Cancel reply

      Categories

      • Uncategorized (14)

    Archives

    • October 2009
    • May 2009
    • Blogroll

      • WordPress.com
      • WordPress.org
    Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

    %d bloggers like this:

      My Room Essay

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