I’m in one of those moods where a small piece of a conversation can trail you off into a deep pitfall of thought. So I’m thinking about bedrooms.

They are often our most intimate of spaces. Where we keep our most private and often treasured things. Hide our secrets. I was just saying to a person that I actually enjoy when I enter someone’s room and it is a mess. Why?

Because everything about them is laid out and you can observe and learn about them more easily.  Each time you look at a particular area over, you are bound to see something you hadn’t seen before amongst the mess. That in a messy room, there’s no feeling that the person has anything to hide.

So I started looking at my room. And I thought… it’s kind of eerie, isn’t it? A clean room. Everything stacked in a perfect order. Just the way you want others to see it. I note the small details. How a lot of my secrets and feelings are hidden amongst a sense of normalcy. How when people enter my room they think it’s calming. “You have a good atmosphere. It’s a good place to be alone and think.”

It’s kind of unsettling to wonder what people can learn about me just by being in my room.


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