the feelings and thoughts found during re-modeling my bedroom
My mind has grown and developed drastically over the past decade back from when I was a mere munchkin perfectly content with living in ignorance and Lego fast forward to 2012 and I ave grown to become a cynical, emotionally absent bastard who is no longer content with bright yellow walls and clouds painted on the ceiling. Naturally I tried my best to make it more fitting sticking posters on the wall of Agent 47 and Death Note only aided only in emphasizing the dramatic difference between my inner child and me
"This is it" I thought to myself as I return home with the thin metal handle of a bucket of emulsion digging into my hand and ripping my shoulder from my socket. I stare at the walls one last time looking at every lump and bump in the walls and every patch of plaster from where posters of old was stuck representing a distant fragment of who I am now almost as if with every removed poster a part of me is removed. Now I've learnt my lesson and started to use blu-tac instead. I let out a sigh and begin the painstaking process of shoving all the furniture into the center exposing years of crap that had fallen down the back of the bed or bookshelf including odd socks, dozens of pens old bus passes andnot to mention the decade of dust that I had unleashed upon my self as it swarmed around me homing in on my nasal cavities like a bunch of microscopic bees and I have stuck my foot in their hive and impaled their queen with a thumbtack. I assumed the tears were caused by the violent coughing fits.
The first night was awful. Condemned to the guest room I had to fight my way to the futon which lay unceremoniously at the back of the room since this room was used to accommodate the overflow from my room which I seemed to be a part of. My hand was still in pain after having a metal stick damn near cut through my flesh and it was half eleven so there was no chance in hell I was going to unfold it from it's sofa form that and I had no idea if it would fit unfolded. This I found was a mistake since it felt like I was lying on a park bench albeit with an inch of padding commonly found in gyms and P.E classes, naturally it was incapable of fitting all 6'1'' of me unless I slept in the fetal position. Which considering I had to sleep on my aching hand to do so was not going to happen either so yeah, my feet were left to dangle in the air occasionally mingling with the empty jam jars left to gather dust along with a closet filled with biker apparel and a half completed jigsaw of the Empire State Building with roughly 600 pieces of near identical window.