I don't really understand why, but lately, I've been thinking of home a lot. What's weird about it is that I'm not really thinking of my whole house, but a specific room. It's the den in my basement. That room was like my personal sanctuary. I could watch TV, play the piano, sing, eat, or just sit and think there .It was also the place where I let out my feelings. I miss the burnt orange color of the walls and the way the fire place would heat up the room in the winter. I miss the chocolate colored couches and the way they seemed to swallow up anyone who sat in them.
I don't know why I keep thinking about this when all it makes me feel is angry. I'm angry that I can't just go down stairs when ever I feel. I'm angry I have no where to let out my feelings anymore. I'm angry I don't have a place to call my own. But, most of all I'm angry that my den my special place, was taken away from me so easily. I feel like the whole world just wants to cause nothing but mayhem and anguish in my life. It's difficult to look on the bright side of things when nothing good happens anymore.
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