One Big Mess

Sparked by the Daily Prompt

My room’s a mess.

I need to correct that sentence. My space is a mess. My room has two halves – my roommate’s and mine – and though hers is not immaculate, it is tidy. Mine, on the other hand, is another story.

Think two chairs, two desks, side by side. The desk on the left has two bottles kept to once corner, a pen-stand in another, and single bag. The desk on the right has, well, a lot of things – a pouch of medicines, some cotton, nail-polish remover, whiteboard markers, comb, boxes (no, really, why are there boxes?), empty packets, thick books, cardboard (meant to be used for craft that never happened), and a lot of paper. The chair on the left has a bag. Usually, the bag isn’t there either. The chair on the right is home to a mountain of clothes. The word ‘mountain’ is not an exaggeration. It’s overflowing.

Let’s look at beds. The one on the left has a nice sheet, two pillows, and a blanket. The one on the right has, among other things, clothes, a teddy bear, a photograph of my parents in an envelope, a remarkably large number of worksheets, paintboxes, a airtight container, and hand sanitizer. I imagine this is possibly Hannelore’s worst nightmare. (If you don’t know Hannelore, read Questionable Content and find out!)

It’s not like I haven’t tried. I occasionally try and fold my clothes and put them in the cupboard. I try to organise things into places so that they belong somewhere. But with time, there’s one thing I’ve realised. My things really don’t belong anywhere. I can’t assign a fixed position to everything and maintain it. My mind is a clutter, and thus, so is my room.

I am not going to justify being a slob, of course. But the question was, what is more of a clutter, my room or my favourite device, and why. The answer is, the fancy device hidden beneath my scalp and skull is messier, and thus, so is everything else. And how it got that way? Well, I suppose eighteen years of memories and information have been strewn about like a collage instead of being compartmentalized in some fashion. There are no boxes. Just a sea of everything that makes me me.

Did I go off-track? I’m sorry! My thoughts went overboard!


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