My room is reflecting my mind again; messy. My room is messy, and my things are cluttered on the floor, and so is my mind. My thoughts are very cluttered and my mind seems in a foggy stage.
Thoughts, situations from days ago, and awkward moments that happened weeks ago were still in my mind, just like how my things stay the same as they were weeks ago—messy.
The kitchen utensils I used days ago were still placed in the place where I left them exactly—on the floor. The test papers and quizzes I received from school were all scattered on the floor, revealing scores that would disappoint everyone. The glass I used when I drank my medicine was still placed on my side table and still had some water left on it and remained untouched, just like the lingering anxieties and awkward moments that refused to leave my mind.
My used clothes overflow the laundry basket, while freshly washed ones are scattered everywhere, mirroring the disarray within me.
The pile of books on my desk, each one representing an unfinished assignment or a chapter I haven’t gotten around to reading, feels like a physical manifestation of my procrastination. The weight of these undone tasks presses on me, just as the weight of the clothes on the floor seems to suffocate the space. I know I should clear the clutter, but the thought of facing these unfinished tasks feels overwhelming like a mountain I haven’t the energy to climb.
I tried fixing them, arranging them, and putting them in their places yet after hours or days, they are still going to be messy again. It’s like whatever I do, it always goes back to being messy. Reflecting the mess in my head.
It’s a tiresome struggle. I spend hours meticulously organizing, folding, and putting things away, only to find the room back in disarray a few days later. It’s like a tide that pulls everything back in, leaving me feeling defeated and exhausted. The mess returns, a constant reminder of my inability to control the chaos, both within and without.
But maybe the mess isn’t just about physical objects. Perhaps it’s about the fear of letting go - letting go of the past and letting go of the anxieties that keep me stuck in a state of disarray. The clutter feels familiar, even comforting, despite the frustration it brings. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone in my struggles; everyone has their messy corners to navigate.
