Nowadays, everyone has a comfortable place to escape from reality. We all need this place because we sometimes need to get away from people’s disturbance and want to be disconnected with the modern grind. The most inimitable place for me is my room in Hong Kong. Back in Hong Kong, I really enjoyed hanging out with my friends in my room. My bed, the temperature, memories of sadness, and joy I experienced in my room will always in my heart. My bed was a place that full of forgotten, and my relaxation area. Homework assignments and projects were all on the bed. I read them every day, but the assignments and projects always haunt my sleep. My pillow was full of saliva and it was sticky. My best moment when I needed to be relaxed was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and did nothing. I really appreciated for having my bed, which brought peace to my life from the stress of life. Based on my experience, Hong Kong is dry, humid, and warm in every seasons. The weather outside of my room always made me uncomfortable. In a country that is always humid and warm, I had to wear white T-shirts and Hawaiian slippers, and I had to turned on the air-conditioner to medium-low in my bedroom. However, it was very dry when I turned on the air-conditioner, so I placed a huge bottle of Johnson’s baby lotion on my desk, next to my computer. It was important as it protected my skin from the dryness. After I put the lotion on my body, my room became the best place for me to live because I was more comfortable. I felt so alive in my room and tried to disconnect from the pressures of daily life. When I would sit in the middle of my room, I felt a peaceful quietness that I could not experience in school or the street. That is the reason why I enjoyed t... ... middle of paper ... ...bass guitar. I bought a bass guitar on the internet seven years ago, and it became a part of my room. The bass guitar always stood in the corner of my room. It never came out of my room because I used to play it every day. It was a classic, black electric guitar and had a lot more detail than I thought. Sometimes I would like to be alone in my room and get away from people’s disturbance. The first thing I would do was playing my bass guitar. It helped me escape extreme pressure from the school. For some reason, reality was suffocating for me, and I missed the feeling of peace when I stayed in my room and played my guitar. If I could, I would go back and live with those memories. All the things I have experienced in my room will always be in my heart. Although I will become an old man one day, my room will always be the most memorable and cherishing parts of my life.
Each person has a place that calls to them, a house, plot of land, town, a place that one can call home. It fundamentally changes a person, becoming a part of who they are. The old summer cabins, the bedroom that was always comfortable, the library that always had a good book ready. The places that inspire a sense of nostalgic happiness, a place where nothing can go wrong.
“The thing about a bed, is that we keep them in our bedroom, which is like our intimate space, our private space, that we can
The blocks of concrete sidewalk in between two rusty, red brick buildings prickle my skin. I lay out my piece of brown corrugated cardboard and am comforted by its smoothness. It provides insulation on a breezy summer night. I curl up, cramped, in the fetal position; my limbs grow limp as my eyelids weigh down over two chocolate eyes. I can feel my fuzzy black dreadlocks falling down the nape of my neck and into the collar of my thin cotton t-shirt. I pull my white tube socks up to my knees with the help of my toes; only the space between them and the bottom of my shorts is now left uncovered and open to the wind. I deliberately position myself in an attempt to conserve energy before morning comes and invites my stomach to turn into a ferocious growling beast. The storeowner will harp about me finding another stoop by prodding my body with a cobweb-infested broom. I will worry about that tomorrow. For now, I escape into a deep, silent slumber. I begin to dream of another life with a different social setting.
My room is the only place where I am most comfortable due to the way how I personally decorated it. My room fits my personality and nothing in my room distracts nor annoys me. Everything fits my preference: the size of my bed, its setting, its organization, and the low quantity of baubles scattered around the room. My room can either be clamorous or silent.
In the poem “The Lady’s Dressing Room,” written by Jonathan Swift, one may say he portrays himself to be a chauvinist by ridiculing women and their cryptic habits. However, others may say he wants to help women from the ideals placed upon them by society and prove to be an early feminist. This poem written in the 18th century represented women to be fake and sleazy at first. Then during the 20th century, the feminist movement used it as an attack against women, depicting the poem’s meaning as not valuing their rights and freedoms. The truth far hidden from these points of views became uncovered recently. This essay will explain both sides of the views and using critical thinking will uncover the real message the author intended to portray.
It is impossible to fully comprehend the appeal to the Gulf Coast High School Band Room unless you are actually a member of the band. All members of the Gulf Coast High School marching band spend the majority of their time in the band room, which is like a second home for most. The room itself does not appear to be anything special. It is a large room with a high ceiling, bright fluorescent lighting, and pink and green padding on the walls. The hallway maintains a terrible odor which nobody can quite determine the source of, and the white, vinyl tile floor is covered in a layer of disgusting things one can only dream of. Still, for some reason it remains a haven to about twelve percent of the student body. At first glance, it does not look like anything special, but when you open that big, gray door and step into the “band world” it becomes clear that it really is an amazing and wonderful place. It feels like the center of the universe.
home there. Home is more than just four walls and a roof and to feel
...nts' house. She spent many hours with me making cookies and teaming up on my brother. I told her all my secrets and dreams. When I had to go back home, she would always write me letters. They were actually written by my grandpa. My mom tried to read them to me, but I wouldn't let her. However, I didn't know how to read, so I finally had to give in and let her read them to me.
For many years I would pass by the house and long to stop and look at it. One day I realized that the house was just that, a house. While it served as a physical reminder of my childhood, the actual memories and experiences I had growing up there were what mattered, and they would stay with me forever.
...pes of environments in the room for example have plenty of huts for children to r relax in
Standing a mere three feet tall at most, it guards the door of my bedroom as a silent sentry. Its dual levels have been incessantly reordered to house each item in an aesthetic and efficient manner. The faded brown of the wood highlights the array of bright covers that lay at the front, patiently waiting to be withdrawn and analyzed once more. This humble bookcase is the crowning jewel of my personal space. The walls are lined with a diverse selection of truly enthralling books, all penned by arguably the most astute minds of all time. The knowledge of centuries lies at my finger tips, breathlessly hungering for me to turn the pages and absorb its riches.
Everyone has a special place that people will never forget. Sometimes it is because there were places that people experienced great joy or comfort. A special place represents peoples’ special memories either good or bad. Memory will following people whole life, and store people’s heart deeper. Good memory will coming all time. My special place and my memory is my grandparent’s house; my grandparent’s house practically is my second home. I would never forget that special place because of things going on my grandparent’s house, which is symbolized by my grandparent’s love.
The place where I feel the most comfortable, and show my personality, is my bedroom. This is the place where I can really be myself and do what I want; it’s the place I come home to, and wake up every day. My room makes me feel comfortable because it is my own space. My house is always crazy, with my dog barking, and my siblings running around making noise, my room is the only place in the house where I can come and relax without caring about everything else, the only place that I can go to clear my mind.
A place, for me, is somewhere that I am familiar with and I recognize it in some way as my own special geographic location. It is somewhere I am emotionally attached to and it is a place that I wish to remain at. I personally feel that it has taken me years to achieve this particular comprehension about where for certain that place is for me in my life, and to make out why I feel a certain way about being within the walls of my own home. I have now come to realize that my home is where my heart will always truly be, because I believe it is the only place where I will always be loved without
grandmother’s house because it made me feel safe and warm. There was a smell of