Added: Jan 31, 2012

From: ahoyimlexie

Duration: 3:59

(Just in case you want to read it, I put it here) Sitting in my room, looking around to find anything to spark a possible idea for this paper, when it suddenly occurred to me that in the process of searching I was actually having a self discovery; it was the room, my walls in particular. Is it sad that something so simple could mean so much to a person? A simple construction of paper lining and plaster, could have the ability to create an emotional bond with a human being. When I moved here, I told my best friend I was going to have a tie dye walls in my bedroom, mind you I was eight and as you could assume, my parents weren't too fond of the idea, so a bright, florescent lime took it's place. In my opinion, a room is a place of self expression, a home within a home, a sweet escape from reality. This room was a place I visited almost every day, and each day I would see that green color as if it was a reminder of where I was. When the thought of switching rooms and redecorating was brought to my attention I was too fascinated with the idea of something new that when the time actually came I had discovered the new room wasn't as great as I had made it out to be; I missed those green walls. Even more pathetically, they weren't even gone. They stood right next door, where they always were. I could visit that room whenever I wanted. It's pitiful truly, I sometimes find myself getting a goofy smile on my face when looking at old pictures of people sitting on the bed or on a chair in that room. I can decide whether the green walls that somehow actually makes me happy, or I'm just reminiscing on the past. The goal was originally to turn my old bedroom into a cool place for my friends and I to hang out, but I didn't realize until tonight why it has taken me so long to begin the process of changing the room. I discovered on this very night, I have a problem with permanence. My initial thought was that I had issues with change, but the more I thought, the more I realized I liked the idea of change only knowing that I could change it back. For example, I change the position of my furniture more often than the average person, because I get bored fairly quickly. I know that if I don't like the way it's set up I can change it back when ever I want, but paint is different. I realize it isn't practical to paint my walls a different color every so often just because of this issue I have, and it's not worth my parent time nor money. These walls were a memory, and I know once they're gone they're gone for good. To me, these walls compared to a stupid t-shirt you buy on vacation; you don't really like it anymore, it's just the places it can take you back to when you look at it that you like. Neither do you have to heart to get rid of it, because you know once you throw it out odds are you'll rarely think of it again and some of those little memories it brought you back to might not come back either. Like the mason jar to the moth, these walls are holding me back, just in a different way. I honestly think now it will be almost liberating to paint over them, because I need to let go of the past. I need to open up a new chapter in my life. I'm not the same little girl I was when I chose the color, so why should I let this childhood memory and a choice I made six year ago prevent me from expressing who I am as a young adolescent. Like I said before, I think a room is a place for self expression, a home within a home, so why should I be expressing myself as someone who I know longer am?

Channel: Entertainment

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