Comfort. What may one think when this word comes to mind? Security? Happiness? Some find comfort in other people, whereas others find comfort in a specific thing or place. It's funny, though, how the most insignificant things to other people could have such a positive impact on someone else. As I sit and think about where I am most secure, only my bedroom comes to mind.
My bedroom is a place where I can just relax and be comfortable. The smell of “Heavenly,” one of my favorite perfumes, is always in the air. I know I can always go there when I want privacy or when I feel like I have nowhere to go. I can just shut the door, maybe even lock it, and keep to myself for a while. When I am tired or feeling sick, my twin bed and huge feather blanket never fail to make me better.
My bedroom is a place where I can use any emotion. Never does anything argue with me and never does anything make me feel degraded. There is an essence in the air that always seems to agree with, and comfort me. Whether I’m happy, sad, and angry or overwhelmed, all I have to do is look around; look around at my pictures. My pictures with my best friends and stupid moments. My pictures of my grandfather who I admired very much before he passed away. Sometimes I’ll even blast my music or write down anything that comes to mind.
My bedroom is a place that carries more memories that any one can imagine. It holds many of my personal belongings which make me feel superior to the world. My dresser is full of things like jewelry, pens, hair ties and books. These are all things that represent who I am exactly. In my bedroom, I can just be myself.
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