Getting Your Own Space Is Never Easy
Getting a room of one's own is worth dying, so inferred Virginia Woolf.
Your own space is your own universe
Your rules apply for your freedom of action, thoughts, living... in your own territory- yours.
But this so-called space/ room/ property/ territory/ shelter/ house/ apartment/ flat/ world/ nation/ freedom... has its price. And yes, it's not cheap.
I want more greens; my neighbors want more parking lot. I gamble all my money on a manipulative capitalist. I have to prepare myself for the worst - losing my money to those sugar-smell- shit-taste liars (Gosh, I just made a new adjective!). These are all the risk I'm taking, just to get a 7x3metre room of my own.
Despite the fact that there might not be any space available for my little car,
Despite the fact that there might be less greens than expected,
And despite the fact that it will be on 17th floor (with questionable construction quality), and that its balcony will face toward the South area (which is a local cemetery area), and that I'm paying more than I should just because I'm a late-buyer and the developer is an evil gold-digger capitalist...
I don't f*cking care. It's my very first space of my own. I'm very aware of the risks I'm taking. And yes, It'll be worthed. I can imagine how it would feel like when I sleep on my brand-new-scented sofa bed in my C17/21. I'll paint the wall plum or grape. I'll decorate it with my late grandma's antiques. I'll have (fake) Persian carpets and round pillows for my guests to sit instead boring-shaped chairs and coffee table. I'll have that cheap plastic colored chandelier I once saw at Toi Moi (I wonder how I can get another one looks like that) I'll have asymmetric bookshelves from the floor up to the ceiling. Everyday, you'll smell aromatherapy sticks (It would be jasmine or sandalwood when I'm happy, or lavender when I'm sad) Everyday you'll hear me singing at the shower. Everyday, once in a while you'll hear Asian-ethnic music. When you're lucky, you'll hear me singing strange tunes, but most of the times you'll only hear my ipod playlists (That would include Bjork, Dresden Dolls, The Doors, Alanis, Janis, Portishead and Jefferson Airplane - the most played gang. It changes frequently, but you'll definitely hear them).
A room of my own. Just me and my little self. It will worth the sacrifices.
Your own space is your own universe
Your rules apply for your freedom of action, thoughts, living... in your own territory- yours.
But this so-called space/ room/ property/ territory/ shelter/ house/ apartment/ flat/ world/ nation/ freedom... has its price. And yes, it's not cheap.
I want more greens; my neighbors want more parking lot. I gamble all my money on a manipulative capitalist. I have to prepare myself for the worst - losing my money to those sugar-smell- shit-taste liars (Gosh, I just made a new adjective!). These are all the risk I'm taking, just to get a 7x3metre room of my own.
Despite the fact that there might not be any space available for my little car,
Despite the fact that there might be less greens than expected,
And despite the fact that it will be on 17th floor (with questionable construction quality), and that its balcony will face toward the South area (which is a local cemetery area), and that I'm paying more than I should just because I'm a late-buyer and the developer is an evil gold-digger capitalist...
I don't f*cking care. It's my very first space of my own. I'm very aware of the risks I'm taking. And yes, It'll be worthed. I can imagine how it would feel like when I sleep on my brand-new-scented sofa bed in my C17/21. I'll paint the wall plum or grape. I'll decorate it with my late grandma's antiques. I'll have (fake) Persian carpets and round pillows for my guests to sit instead boring-shaped chairs and coffee table. I'll have that cheap plastic colored chandelier I once saw at Toi Moi (I wonder how I can get another one looks like that) I'll have asymmetric bookshelves from the floor up to the ceiling. Everyday, you'll smell aromatherapy sticks (It would be jasmine or sandalwood when I'm happy, or lavender when I'm sad) Everyday you'll hear me singing at the shower. Everyday, once in a while you'll hear Asian-ethnic music. When you're lucky, you'll hear me singing strange tunes, but most of the times you'll only hear my ipod playlists (That would include Bjork, Dresden Dolls, The Doors, Alanis, Janis, Portishead and Jefferson Airplane - the most played gang. It changes frequently, but you'll definitely hear them).
A room of my own. Just me and my little self. It will worth the sacrifices.
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posted by oengoemeloeloe at 3:45 AM
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