i don’t remember writing any of this, but that’s okay becuase it’s from 2004.

There’s just something bout this little box of a room that appeals to me. Maybe it has to do with the twisted discomfort I get from sleeping in open spaces- not the out-of-doors kind of open spaces, just the large room kind. Example? I could never sleep in a gym. Or in a library. Or a grocery store. Or even in my Fraternity’s foyer. I like small spaces. My bed at school is ideal; the middle slot of a tri-bunk with three of the four sides closed off by adjacent walls. There was something very comforting about being able to lie on my side with my back against the wall.

Maybe it has to do with the static colors of the running water and fan, which tend to drone out near every other sound. I can’t hear myself breathe. I can’t see cars, or wind, or people outside in their loud boats, or the sounds of my old house settling. There are no brown squiggles dancing across my eyes from the sound my pencil makes as I write. After awhile it’s almost like there’s not sound at all…

Here I sit, in a bathroom, with my back against one wall, my shoulder against another, and the ball of my left foot pressed against a third. If I slide my computer off my lap, I could reach over and touch my right hand against the remaining wall.

It’s simple here. I can see everything. There are no distractions. This is how I want my life to be.

But I digress.

recently i was asked what my favorite place was. my answer is still the upstairs bathroom of my parent’s house.