My Room Essay

and show my personality, is my bedroom. This is the place where I can really be myself and do what I want; it is 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. In describing my room, it is not really describing what is in my room but more of what I do in my room. I can tell how my room makes me feel. Certain things I do in my room I would never do in front of anyone in public. My room is also my…

Short Paragraph on My Reading Room Answer: I do not have separate room for reading. My bedroom is my reading room too. My reading room is small but well ventilated. My reading room has two doors and two windows. One is on the north and the other is on the west. So, light and air can get easily into it. There are two chairs, a desk and an alna in my reading room. The alna stands on the left side at my desk. My books and useful things are neatly arranged into the desk. There is a beautiful…

I think that my dorm room is a representation of my front-stage behavior. This is the case because although it is my room, I share it with a friend, and although it is our room, we often have other people in it with us. Dorm rooms are a space in which friends can gather for a party, to study together, or even to watch this week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy. It is more of a public space than a private space in which I can be alone. I keep my dorm room in a manner in which I would publically…

Sebastian of Portugal are examples of this – the performance My Room / My Rum, premiered at the Condomínio Festival, in Lisbon, explores and further unsettles the dynamic between memory and identity. Accordingly, collecting and archiving as necessary means to assert identity are subject to evaluation. It turns out that they both prove ineffective at spotting one’s place in the world, merely disclosing loose traces of life experiences instead. It is fragmentary, achronological and, altogether,…

Tanner Barnard English 1180 Prof. Elizabeth Davis October 5th 2017 My Room, My Safe Place, My Sanctuary There is no place like your room, it’s a place of complete safety. There is a loud creaking noise coming from the alarm clock, that sits on my bedside table next to my Pokémon cards, which as you walk away, is replaced by the two to four groaning base boards under my blue carpet. The noise of my busy family, reminds me I’m in a safe place to relax. The noise of the outside is still…

too" I tell my 9 year old brother who is currently crying in my arms. We were hiding in the little hidden door to our playroom that my parents made for me and my brother. I could see the two tall buff men enter one says “Get things that can come in use to us” and left the room. The one man started going through drawers. **Gasp** I quickly cover my little brother 's mouth. One man started coming towards where we were currently hiding. "JIM COME ON TIME TO GO GET THE GASOLINE! WE NEED TO LEAVE…

I couldn 't believe it! My family had started Christmas without me. According to my clock, I still had minutes left before I could get out of bed and yet I could hear my sister chattering and laughing with my parents. Quickly slipping from my room and down the hallway, I passed my little brother 's bedroom, noticing his door was still closed. It seemed he was missing out too. Still pitch-black outside, Santa had left the tree lights on, transforming the front room into a Christmas…

Sitting down tapping the brown tables and biting my fingernails At Charles Sumner Elementary School. Not fitting in and being the only dark skinned dominican in my class felt like I was underwater with no oxygen tank. I remember when one of my classmates was looking at me and laughing with his friends. It felt like i had butterflies in my stomach, as he keep looking at me i felt the need to look him and say what. A chubby, curly hair mean looking boy with the same age as me, looked at me and…

We were on the road for hours riding in circles, to get to our destination, but it was the one night my friends and I will never forget. It was Saturday August 29, 2015 and I was in Washington D.C. with my three friends: Leia, Kerien, and Breanna. We stayed at the Hostel Hotel downtown on 11th street. We stayed there for three nights and four days. The scary part for us when we were in the lobby and we found out what a Hostel hotel was, we then heard that the rooms were dormitory style with…

My mind is filled with many avenues and passage ways. Crevices and Rooms filled of times of my past and present. The good: open with welcoming smiles to anyone. The bad and ugly: locked but with the key still in the hole for anyone willing to enter. My mind is colorful to say the least. I can be thinking of anything at any given moment. There’s a room at the farthest point of the hallway, its door the darkest of red, the doorknob the same color. This is the room that my deepest fear stays…