A Sayonara post to my beloved room

"To write fiction, a writer must have money and a room of one's own."
---Virginia Woolf (1889-1941)

I begin this post with a remarkable quotation from Virginia Woolf, one of the greatest writers in English Literature. When i started writing, about thirteen or fourteen years of age, i also started investigating the Literature that was known before me. Virginia Woolf's name came up frequently, i thought she was the most famous writer of all.

So with the thought of becoming a great writer, i pursued to read the life of this ubiquitous feminist whose writing style fascinated me. I wished, and only wished to be her. And with a stroke of madness, i plunged into Virginia Woolf's writings , collecting novels, essays, actual publications of her criticisms in some renowned magazines, her diaries, and the recently purchased biography, Virginia Woolf by Hermione Lee. This obsession has taken me into great heights. At this point, i could say that her writing style have greatly influenced me .

Stream of Consciousness is my inevitable tool to draw out and flesh out my characters in my short stories. Although after my madness over Virginia Woolf's life I became drawn to the biopic Russian writers, Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; most of my introductions on my drafts in my novel are still stream-of-consciousness mode.

What is this mere interest on Literature that relates to my room in Ipil Residence Hall?

The object of happiness, the one that i have been thinking of last night, became known to me this morning. And with the unpredictable thought of unhappiness i wished to relieve it by doing chores that i yearned to do for some time. It is not writing, for i write everyday, or even a cup of coffee at Starbucks. It is cleaning, my dear, faithful friends.

This odd thought precipitated during lunch. As one could have experience, eating on a dining table alone is as therapeutic as taking a solitary walk in the park because it opens ones mind to see more of oneself. I thought, what if i clean my room prior to my tentative departure on Wednesday? it would definitely make me happy.

So by the stroke of twelve the inevitable plan became seized.

Every student living in dorm quarters could feel multitudes of emotion during the process of cleaning after a semester's stay. The sentimental effect of plunging into tons of garbage to segregate wastes from treasure can cure sadness especially if one finds a long lost photo.

Let me share these photos to you:

The force of a recollection like this brought writers in literature in creating the best masterpieces of all. Marcel Proust on his A La Recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time) epic, started with the recollection of Combray, the setting of the 7-volume novel, upon the main character's tasting of a Madeleine cake. The elusiveness of ordinary objects can lead to great writing, or so i thought after a momentary gaze on these pictures.

To introduce the characters in the picture, i start with the upper one. From the left, Marvin Jay is one of my most eminent of my friends. He has this charismatic and even iconic african-jamaican hair of which some of the girls i knew are much interested, according to what they said. Marvin is taking up Philosphy, a field of study quite ironic to the way he looked in my opinion. Phegiel is one of my most musical friends. He is known for being the ultimate guitarist, though he considered Marvin Jay an even greater contender when it comes to the language of music. Luis is one of my most intelligent friends. He's now far, far away from us. Occasionally, we would chat, but I'm sure he's happy to where he is now. But, as we, Marvin, Phegiel and me, used to say: someday, we would meet each other again.

The picture is becoming old. It's 3 years old now, and memories just kept coming back. The videoke, the stroll about the mall, Friuli at 10 o'clock, 3 hours late from dorm curfew, and a pack of other stuff that would likely to be forgotten due to busy schedules. Of course, these people are not the only cherished friends i have.

I have some other people whom i constantly meet up. Some memories just bringback the good old times. You how much i cherish friendship. :-)

CLEANING: The actual process!

So this the room before i started to clean:

I am not a big fan of McDonald's
but this lunch pack is terribly bought on impulse.

I feel so fat right now!

After trashing the fast food stuffs, i got into cleaning mode. Wet. Wipe. Sneeze. Then, wipe again. A routine which i am not well acquainted with. The windows were dust-full, so i bought a heavy duty rag from U.P. Coop.

Liberated space!

Cluttered bed!

As an aspiring Environmental Engineer, i devoted myself in collecting PET bottles during the semester. I had an accumulated total of 40 C2 bottles, 20 Starbucks Venti containers, 3 6-liter mineral bottles, and a whole other stuff from different brands of Energy drinks.

I packed them neatly on a green plastic bag! BUFF UP!

The top header situation! Hygiene on the left, Acads stuff on the right!

I stopped moving by about 3 pm and eat some snacks from the closet. And continued immediately after the last bite. So here i am writing this post, indicates that i am through.

Cleaning does bring back old happy memories.

Ciao! God bless!