A personal chronicle of life's awkward moments, from yours truly; This is also a collage of how-to guides you'll never need, rants you'll wish you hadn't wasted your time on, and people you'll never meet in real life but will learn to love.
Most of...
We would like to pause your program for an important announcment: IT's ROOM TOUR TIME!
I was working on the dance mom chapter, when I decided to take a break, and fandomly tapped on TheGirlWhoDoesItAll 's boredom book because my Wattpad library is organized in order of most recently updated.
And one of the chapters was asking if her readers would like to see a room tour, (hell yes) so I decided. That's exactly what this dump needed, an extra fancy-schmancy, very deluxe, special edition room tour!
*awkward jazz hands
So, welcome to my room. I do a lot of things here. I sleep. I wake up. I dramatically slam doors whenever I'm mad. I leave doors open to dramaticslly sob so my entire family will know the injustice they've done to thier only oldest daughter.
This is the entrance to my room
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It's a bit grainy because most of my family was asleep at this time and were blissfully unware that I was bounding around with iPad, crouching in awkward positions, and wierd angles to get a good shot.
I actually thing that the lighting behind the door (note the flamboyant sparkly letter J), is symbolic since it provides the aesthetic of a door to heaven while right next to it, (not talking about the railing) right of my wonderful, heated haven, is my sister's pit to hell.
She leaves the door open when she sleeps because she's afraid that if we close the door, she'll suffocate. Not if I strangle you first my dear.
Come on in.
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This is my bed, and it's bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaauuuuuue Deliberate Halsey reference. If you wrre wondering, I liked her when she wasn't popular. Thanks a lot tumblr
It's a queen. I don't know what else I'm supposed to say about my bed. *scoots to next station Come along Fluffy
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