I am sitting here on my bed and I am slowly realizing how much I am going to miss my room, or rather what it stands for. It is pathetic really, I'll be the first to admit it is, but honest is the best policy right? Plus, I feel like I put a lot into creating the proper ambiance of my beloved room. I feel like my room is a true reflection of who I am right now in my life: an eclectic (closeted) romantic. My friends can attest to my utter lack of romanticism, and I have little doubt some of them are currently making a "psh, yeah right" face. Well are you?
The soft ivory of my old room has been replaced by harsh black, and my light colors have been transformed into deeper richer versions of their former selves. I am sure there is a metaphor for life in there somewhere. Is it that I can no longer take sanctuary from my dynamic self? Should I be just as captivating in private as I am in public? This is to assume I am dynamic or captivating in real life. My thoughts have lead me back to Icarus by White Hinterland, a song that always gives we the sense of approaching inevitability without apprehension. Not to say I can't be timid in that approach, for it is does not suit anyone to be so welcoming to all inevitable aspects of life. Or does it?
White Hinterland - Icarus by erinaomi
The soft ivory of my old room has been replaced by harsh black, and my light colors have been transformed into deeper richer versions of their former selves. I am sure there is a metaphor for life in there somewhere. Is it that I can no longer take sanctuary from my dynamic self? Should I be just as captivating in private as I am in public? This is to assume I am dynamic or captivating in real life. My thoughts have lead me back to Icarus by White Hinterland, a song that always gives we the sense of approaching inevitability without apprehension. Not to say I can't be timid in that approach, for it is does not suit anyone to be so welcoming to all inevitable aspects of life. Or does it?
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