Julie9
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06-2004
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Brazil
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Re: Writing: Workshop (Exercise 10)
There's this sacred and warm( very warm if the air condinioner is off) place called bedroom where many secrets lie and also many clothes and towels, and socks...
My bedroom has one big defect: it is too big so it has the biggest messes as well.
Concerning its aspect, well, I think it's cute when no male is around. It's all white with wooden windows , an air conditioner, a home theater, a closet, a computer and yeah, a bed. A king sized bed because both residents of the bedroom like to occupy much space.
No posters on the walls, no pictures on the walls, that might show the teen years are over in this place for a moment. There are some books and magazines on a desk and they are often seen on the floor as well.
And sometimes the clothes forget their own way to the closet and they remain on the floor maybe trying to find out why do those books make the live ones quiet as an inanimated object.
Overall, until 5 :00 pm or so, the bedroom is a very tidy place reflecting the girlie part of the society. After this time, it really might lose any tidy aspect.
After the sudden storm brought by the boyish behaviour( I knew the teens weren't that over), I try to recover its primal appearance and it takes me like 1 hour to at least pretend it looks tidy.
However this when the most fun things happen, we watch films and eat lots of popcorn , pizza and snacks, and this is when I see my bedroom isn't that perfect in organization but in many other aspects it is.
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Mar/16/2005, 4:10 pm
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SatinNLace
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Murf's Lap!
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Re: Writing: Workshop (Exercise 10)
My bedroom is defiantly a room for someone who enjoys their sleep.
Dark green curtains cover my only window keeping most of the sunlight out. My bed is fit for a king covered in soft blue sheets and a soft a warm, blue comforter. The pillows are soft, but the occasion feather poking you in your eye can be a little annoying. Two nightstands sit on the sides of the bed. On top of them are two small, black lamps that give off a very warm, soft light. The ceiling fan is rarely ever used, for it makes a lot of noise due to a loose screw. The lights on the ceiling fan are too bright as well. There is a 100 year old dresser facing the bed. It is made of solid wood, but it is missing a few knobs. I guess I can’t complain though considering how old it is. On top of the dresser is a 32 inch television, a VCR and a DVD player. To the right of the dresser is a bookshelf that holds most of my movies and DVDS. A cradle sits in the corner of my room. It was the cradle that my youngest son slept in, but now it is filled with a few stuffed animals and any clothing I happen to toss in that direction. I have a very small closet that I know must struggle to share. There is also a shortage of clothes hangers! My bedroom is very simply designed and is painted an off white color. A picture of my youngest son hangs on one of the walls by the bed. There is a shortage of nails as well, or there would be more pictures on the wall. When I go to sleep at night I keep the room cold because I enjoy wrapping up in the comforter.
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Mar/16/2005, 4:37 pm
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Blitzen
New-Born Writer
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12-2004
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falkirk
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Re: Writing: Workshop (Exercise 10)
Bedroom is my solace, comfort when I'm tired, alone time when I'm stressed, internet gateway when I'm alone, the place I call my own.
Pictures hang upon the wall, of me and Star and Sheeba. My shelf of books and easter egg, of pictures and cds, of my egyptian cat and my celtic whisky miniature, threatens to drop on my pc.
My printer has more paper piled on top of it than coming out of it. My drawers grown with the clothes they contain. My watercolour set gathers dust. My bookshelves hold works I gathered for research. My library books were due back a month ago.
Stuck to my window are a heart called love and a sun faded devil. Stuck to my wall is a black and feather dreamcatcher. Stuck in my head is an idea I must write. As my digital alarm ticks off the minutes of the night, I try and compose my thoughts on the screen.
Above the dresser just behind my head, hang tongs and a dryer, which i mostly ignore. There are curious noises, from the gaelic of Enya to the dog on the floor, whilst lying in bed, my girlfriend snores.
I didn't mean this to rhyme but I hope you can see, everything in my bedroom means something to me. Uniforms out for tomorrow, just lying aside. My rumpled blue quilt, drawn out like the tide. The see through blue netting, behind which we can't hide. Whilst in a shoebox under the bed, the source of my pride.
Stories I've written, all filed away neat. Some of them whole but most incomplete. This is my room, from the wood of the floor, to the handle-less door, with the blue-silver paper and the single green pillow, and the scented candles buddha statuettes, to the see through pig bank, and the Jam Jar of Cash.
313 words. Harder than I thought, it tried to turn itself into a poem.
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Quick! Competition! Vote for your favourite comic scripts
http://forums.millarworld.tv/index.php?showtopic=90564&st=20
It's not clicky, though, sorry
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Mar/16/2005, 11:16 pm
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kit10ish
DailyStar
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02-2007
Location:
Australia
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50
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Re: Writing: Workshop (Exercise 10)
The Bedroom
Our bedroom is in dire need of a paint job. At present it is a dirty cream color which I wish were a pale powder blue. It isn't very big, so is overcrowded with a queen sized bed, a cheap small dresser, an antique vanity, an almost antique dresser cabinet, and a huge, heavy wall closet. The ugly brown rug has seen too much traffic from children and animals. I can't say that it is our sanctuary when it seems to always have visitors other than ourselves.
A bedroom should be heaven, hence the wish for powdery sky blue paint. There is a collection of angel pictures on the wall. Even one with angels smoking and drinking. There is a plaque, paper pencil cut out of the Serenity Prayer, words I strive to live by. A color pencil painting of a rose beautifully done by a friend hangs over my side of the bed. Mardi Gras beads collected over the years, gifts from students, frame that rose.
Both nightstands are piled high with books read or waiting to be read. The small bookcase is over stuffed with a growing pile about to teeter over. Books stocked in piles on the floor near the bed. My bookcase is neatly arranged, altho is starting to get as crowded as the other. Atop it sits my Yamaha organ awaiting for the next time I decide to fiddle with it.
Stuffed cats and teddy bears and other critters creep across my pillow, bookcase, and night stand. The doona cover is covered in moons and suns and stars with a blue background and gold designs which is exchanged with the black doona of similar designs when it is laundry time.
The boys use our room to view cable tv, and always end up leaving dirty dishes from snacks, or empty chip bags or glasses, left for me to clean up. Television is not all they do in there, for they end up tussling, knocking the mattress off kilter and bedding ripped out of place. And cool evenings bring the cats onto our bed. You can always tell how cold it is by the number of cats on the bed.
That's our room, crowded yet comfortable and homey for all.
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Mar/4/2007, 9:09 am
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