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My room,, or it was my room I should say. It is the room I grow up in, stayed in, played in, did homework in.. etc. I moved out when I was 19 but still.. old room I always thought of as my room. But my parents are moving from San Jose to San Diego and it is just so strange ... It is the only home I have known them to have .. Although were they are moving too is sooo much better.... I am not sure why this all bothering me so dang much.. or why I am so sad over something I am glad they getting rid of.
Still.. Old room.. On that big blank wall, I used to have bunny rabbit wallpaper... golden bunnies hopping in leaves.. and the other walls used to be painted yellow with dark brown carpet. I had golden glitter splash up on the top of the popcorn ceiling... along with glow in the dark stars that I would watch fade until I feel asleep. .. When I was small I use to look out my window by climbing on my toy box... there was a huge field that ended in a walnut grove. There was two big oak trees with a farm house that sat in middle and off to the side I could see the edges of the green houses. I visited that house cause there was a Chinese girl my age to play with. I remember toasted almond cookies... I think of Amy every-time I find them in a Chinese buffet. My Brother would build forts out there and they were pretty good, he kinda lived out in the field...until one day the fort burned down. However, fields do not remain that way in San Jose, as the years went by the pine trees my mom planted when I was 3 grew to cover the view from my window. Just as well. The farm house is gone, replaced with an apartment complex, the walnut grove went away for condos... and all the people moved in and out, coming and going. No longer the golden quite flower farm of my memories.
You see a room but all traces of when I was there are gone aside from the layers of paint on the wall. Still there is a part of me that will always remain there. At least until they replace all the dry wall. When I was 9 or 10 my dad got into one of his pissed off moods and slammed my door into the wall leaving a round door knob hole. Which stayed there for many years. During that time.. I would write notes and stick them in the hole and listen to them collect between the dry wall on the bottom floor. Maybe someday someone will find them.. and learn that a little girl once lived in the room upstairs...
Still.. Old room.. On that big blank wall, I used to have bunny rabbit wallpaper... golden bunnies hopping in leaves.. and the other walls used to be painted yellow with dark brown carpet. I had golden glitter splash up on the top of the popcorn ceiling... along with glow in the dark stars that I would watch fade until I feel asleep. .. When I was small I use to look out my window by climbing on my toy box... there was a huge field that ended in a walnut grove. There was two big oak trees with a farm house that sat in middle and off to the side I could see the edges of the green houses. I visited that house cause there was a Chinese girl my age to play with. I remember toasted almond cookies... I think of Amy every-time I find them in a Chinese buffet. My Brother would build forts out there and they were pretty good, he kinda lived out in the field...until one day the fort burned down. However, fields do not remain that way in San Jose, as the years went by the pine trees my mom planted when I was 3 grew to cover the view from my window. Just as well. The farm house is gone, replaced with an apartment complex, the walnut grove went away for condos... and all the people moved in and out, coming and going. No longer the golden quite flower farm of my memories.
You see a room but all traces of when I was there are gone aside from the layers of paint on the wall. Still there is a part of me that will always remain there. At least until they replace all the dry wall. When I was 9 or 10 my dad got into one of his pissed off moods and slammed my door into the wall leaving a round door knob hole. Which stayed there for many years. During that time.. I would write notes and stick them in the hole and listen to them collect between the dry wall on the bottom floor. Maybe someday someone will find them.. and learn that a little girl once lived in the room upstairs...
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i know That particular feel a little too well. From all my movings....every move, every empty room, it's like a part of me is being left behind....
for me...it's...a little more....not only a part of me being left behind, but that part is reaching out begging for me not to go.
As of late, this has been the longest I've lived somewhere....and that a year and a half. So tired of moving. just...want to settle down finally.
for me...it's...a little more....not only a part of me being left behind, but that part is reaching out begging for me not to go.
As of late, this has been the longest I've lived somewhere....and that a year and a half. So tired of moving. just...want to settle down finally.
I can't even remember my first room. It was back in the... 1700s I believe. LOL. My past is so... fucked-up, it's way too long to explain. Now? I own two places: here in Charleston, South Carolina, another in Lakeland, Florida, and sorta a third in Naples, Florida (I say "sorta", because it ain't paid-off yet. lol)
Funny how our past, really our History, stays with us years and maybe decades later. But I suppose it is a case of us looking back at us and who we once were; innocent, naïve, trusting, and when the wall between our fantasies and our reality was still thin and transparent.
Rather like, “Once upon a time….”
Rather like, “Once upon a time….”
*nods* It is a part of growing... and realizing that nothing lasts forever. Everything is in constant change but we lay down anchors toward things that seem more permanent,
and when those move and change -- well we must adapt. Sometimes something is just sad just because it is over.. that that is what the was is here.. and end to childhood security.
and when those move and change -- well we must adapt. Sometimes something is just sad just because it is over.. that that is what the was is here.. and end to childhood security.
My first room is now my mom's sewing room. The two rooms next to it is where my one of my older brothers and sisters lived in until they moved out. My 2nd room used to belong to my second oldest brother who now has a family of two. I stayed in that room for most of my teenage years before moving into the room my older sisters used to share.
Now that room is currently being used for storage space and I'm currently living in the room my oldest brother used to have.
Now that room is currently being used for storage space and I'm currently living in the room my oldest brother used to have.
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