Its a box. A box in a bigger box, full of other boxes.
Its your room, your way, just how you like it.
Out of all the ones you've had there's one you like best. For no specific reason it's just right; your beds angle, old trincuts in the window, the space where you toss your dirty clothes, the way that picture set the whole room and made you smile when you walked in, the shadow cast by your dream catcher, or how you could see every letter sitting in that box in your closet when you forgot to shut the doors. The room wasnt a room, it was home.
You log uncountable hours there. Sitting, standing, pacing. It isnt your friend. Its a piece of you. The things that change you happen there. Its where you think. Not the thinking about that vocab test, or your shoes. The thinking that forms ideas. Those moments, in that room, form the thoughts that become and change your generations effect on the world. They do more than dream, they reationalize and prioritize. Those moments decide how you live.
You lay there before you sleep, or after shcool, on break, whenever, and you question everything: all you've been told, all you've seen, and how its going to change your progression as a person. You grow more in this room than anyone will ever realise because to them its just a room. Its not a creative outlet, a mixing pot, a safe haven or the place you'll never forget. Its four walls. Here, where the comfort seeps outward, you grow. At a ripe sixteen, when all you know is in the past and all you want is in your hands, the tolerance for error is miniscule. Its the growth in your room, your home, that has lead you to this conclusion. All your thinking has shown you that the 'leaders', the people that our elders regret they didnt become, (mostly)dont just fall into their fortune. They sat alone in their dorms planning, thinking, meditating toward their goals. The goals they mapped long before in that hearth of a room. The blue print of their lives that only insensative unwavering hard work would produce. They knew it would take that much, they had gained wisdom from the hours of reflection in that room. They knew that each step dictated more than what was presented.
They would hope the most would be made of our teenage safety cushion and the most would be gained from poor and grand judgement alike. In honor of them, I solomely swear to do the best, learn the most, and gain as much wisdom as I can in the time I have left before adulthood.
Heres to continuous growth.