Nov 05, 2006 22:53
Describe your mind these days, as if it was a room.
So my mind, right, the walls are white. It's not a stark white, it's a little worn in, but not stained with cigarette smoke. It's not a very big area. There are a few posters on the wall, ones of Carl Barat and Brett Anderson, at the very least, and huddles of Poloroid photos. Also taped to the wall are want-ads ripped out of music magazines and houseware advertisements from the 50s. You bet the sound system is kicking. It's all there: CD player, tape player, record player, 8-track player, and a thingy to plug my iPod into. There are stacks and stacks of records, unread books. There is a coffee table from Ikea with a bowl of carrot corriander soup on top, beside a messy bunch of notes with doodles on the edges. There are coasters ready if friends come by. The couch is long and definitely plush, probably tan corduroy. It is neatly lined with empty bottles of WKD. There is a TV with a laser disc of Ghostbusters cleary visible, but there is no computer. Zamfir probably wouldn't be playing, though.
curiosity,
faq