Mi cuarto parece una leonera, y necesito que deje de serlo. Hace meses que mi cuarto ha tomado vida propia y que nunca está ordenado. . . esto es horrible. Tengo el suelo lleno de plumas de Soupy, bolsos, zapatos y otro tipo de cosas que no detallaré. Encima de la mesa hay una pila de ropa limpia esperando a ser colocada.

Cada vez estoy más convencida de que el cuarto de una persona refleja parte de su estado y personalidad. Mi hermana que siempre ha sido mucho más “outgoing”y activa que yo, siempre ha “presumido” de un cuarto más caótico que el mío. Mi cuarto no es muy grande, pero se caracteriza por sus detalles y colores. Tengo fotos, cuadros, mandalas y postales. Y toda y cada una de ellas encierra una historia. Me gusta sentir que allá donde vivo hago de ese lugar un sitio familiar. Desde que mis padres se separaron ha sido difícil sentirme como en casa. Después de tantos años considerando que la casa de mi infancia era mi hogar, tuve que entender que sentirme o no como en casa dependería de mí, de cómo decorase mi cuarto, de aquellos pequeños detalles que me hicieran sentir cómoda.

Resulta interesante como algunas personas nunca habitan sus casas/pisos, por el simple hecho de que no les pertenecen. Hay gente que no decora sus cuartos, que no deja una huella, que no les importa si está limpio, ordenado o si se nota su presencia. Para mí eso es impensable.

Así que hoy, un domingo como otro cualquiera, voy a ponerme musiquita y a ordenar un poco este desastre mental que tengo como cuarto. =)

wall

My room is a mess. It’s been like that for months and I want this to end. Actually, I N-E-E-D this to end. The floor is full of Soupy’s feathers, clothes, shoes and purses. There is a pile of clean clothes on the table and the chair… which I can’t use.

I exactly don’t know why, but rooms represent quite accurate people’s mood and personality. Mine is really confortable and colorful. It’s full of many tiny details, each one with its personal story. When you constantly move, you get used to carry certain things that will always make you feel like “home.” Since my parents separated and I no longer live in my hometown, I felt that I my “home” (where I grew up) disappeared and that every place I turned out my new burrow. I find interesting how so many people don’t make their rooms or apartment their home… cause they don’t own it or just because it’s not their parents. Nevertheless, I believe it is important to make the best of the place you are living even if it’s not your property.

I live with other 3 girls. It seems to me that two of them don’t give a shit of how their room looks like, if it’s tidy, if it’s clean, or not. In fact, they full the living room with their stuff instead of unpacking it in their wardrobe. I just can’t understand how they stand their own mess. Enjoying their own apartment doesn’t seem a preference in their lives. . .

So, this Sunday morning, I am going to tidy this room. Happy/Active music will help me and Soupy will look at me from its cage.

Way back in the mountains
Way back in the hills
There used to live a mountianeer
They called him fiddlin’ Will
He could play most anything
And some say he could sing
But the one thing that he liked to do best
Was sawing on the strings

So get out the fiddle
And rosin up the bow
Look at ol’ Will a pattin’ his toe
We’ll make music til the rafters ring
All that pickin’ and a sawin on the string

When the neighbors had a shindig
And they all had viddles to eat
We’d always have to wait on Will
To make the frolic complete
When he comes down from the mountain
All the gals began to sway
Sometimes he’d pick that ol’ 5 string
Until the break of day

So tune up the 5 string
Tighten up the hyde
Tell all the hill folks to get inside
All them pickin’ and a sawing on the string

So tune up the 5 string
Tighten up the hyde
Tell all the hill folks to get inside
All them pickin’ and a sawing on the string