But this takes me away from my favorite part of the house, not my bed, but where the bed lies, because no one can see my face because it is covered by a wooden door. And I don’t like anyone to see my face so often, that’s why I always closed my 40w daylight to be embrace by some mystery.
My mother just called me in her low cheerful voice whenever I have a visitor waiting at our red gate, or if I need to get my father’s medicine in the house of my auntie that is bought by her.
My bedroom has lots of wisdom, not because of my bookshelf, but because of the stillness that it brings.
There is the TV where I watch my favorite DVDs like movies and concerts, but much oftentimes when I am haggard from doing graphics, juvenile animation, internet research, and literature. But I also like just to stare at the TV screen sometimes seeing Richard or Giovhanii in action, in one of my adorable scripts. Or seeing the bums at the plaza or at the bus terminal doin time.
There is also the music collection which still includes Dylan, The Beatles, Floyd, Neil Young, Led Zep, Sabbath, Sonic Youth and many more, but right now I am listening mostly to Velvet Underground, Joy Division that is stored in my CPU. Well but it is still not the music that inspires me to stay in my room despite the mesmerizing places that I could travel and cultures that I could explore.
It’s about the taught that there is someone who stays with me on my bed as the night touches me and she stayed until the morning sun greets.
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