I have a messy apartment. It is reflective of my state of mind, these days. I don’t like to have anyone inside because I’m a little embarrassed by it. I’ll take a few minutes to describe it, here.
The front door opens to the outside. The complex is built around a central courtyard containing several picnic tables and a small playground. A few trees grow in the middle of the courtyard. The lawn is usually very green and well-enough kept. In the mornings, I can hear the sprinklers come on. Children are playing outside at what seems like all hours of the day. Their voices intrude on the quiet of my own dwelling. I live on the second floor.
Upon entering, the first thing that can be seen is the tall halogen lamp. It stands immediately to the left of the entrance. The lamp is plugged into a wall socket by the door and provides the living room’s only source of light. It is black, with a CD rack built into it. There haven’t been CDs stored in it for several years. There is a small reading lamp clipped onto it. That lamp is never used, either. An old, handed-down sofa sits a short distance into the living room, marking off a space approximately three feet wide by seven feet long, which is used primarily for storage. The space is piled high with the empty boxes in which my home computers were packaged for delivery. Usually, a dusty pair of sandals sits just behind the couch.
The only other piece of furniture in the room is another handed-down item. It is a wooden-framed chair, painted white, with a deep green cushion. I believe it is an outdoor chair, but I have only ever had it in my living room. There is a small bookshelf next to the chair, it is filled primarily with Star Wars novels, most of which have not yet been read. Seven small stacks of comic books rest on the floor against the wall opposite the chair.
One of the first noticeable characteristics of the room is that there are no pictures on the walls. In fact, there is nothing hanging on any of the walls in any of the rooms. This gives voices a strange reverberation and it often sounds like speaking in an empty room. The effect is a little unnerving and my impression is that people are a little uncomfortable inside my home. I have never wanted to make people very comfortable here, so this has not bothered me overmuch.
The entertainment center is on the wall opposite the front door. It has one large compartment containing a 27-inch flatscreen television by Sony. Four other compartments contain a VCR, cable decoder box, and several videogame systems. On top of the entertainment center is a set of additional speakers which are plugged into the television. There is also a statue of Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars. The statue’s hand glows in the dark, but there is not usually enough light in the room to make it work.
On either side of the entertainment center is a shelf filled with approximately 300 DVDs. They are in alphabetical order. There are too many to be contained on the shelves however, and there are three stacks of DVDs on top of the shelf on the left side. The DVD collection is probably the most impressive thing in the room. Most of the blockbusters are there, including: Spider-Man, Silence of the Lambs, Gladiator, and Star Wars Episodes I and II. There are also strange choices like: Capricorn One and Can’t Buy Me Love. I am a big fan of movies and I love having a lot of them.
The room is in a general state of disarray. Things are scattered all over. It is fairly chaotic. There is a thick layer of dust on the shelves, most of the time. The most noticeable characteristic of the is that there are no pictures on the walls. In fact, there is nothing hanging on any of the walls in any of the rooms. This gives voices a strange reverberation, like speaking in an empty room. The effect is a little unnerving. It seems a little like no one really lives here. My impression is that it makes people uncomfortable. I have never wanted to make people very comfortable here, so this has not bothered me overmuch.
It is a lonely room inside a lonely apartment. It wasn’t always like this. I used to keep a better house. There were still no pictures on the walls, but everything was clean and tidy. My mind has become more and more discontented over the past several years, and it has affected the way I keep my house. It is desperate, desolate, and without care anymore. Maybe even without hope.
I have a vacuum cleaner that sits out all the time. It’s like the apartment wants someone to clean it. To sweep out the cobwebs and make it a pleasant place to live. It is a lot like me, in that regard. I wait for the same thing.
