I've finally brought enough of my stuff up from North Carolina to be able to get settled into my room.

Things are different up here. Things don't get messy. I get writing done. I spend maybe one or two days a week out with friends, in contrast to Orlando where I honestly can not remember the last day I spent in solitude. I should know if I'll be starting Hunter in January within the next week or two. I haven't eaten fast food since I moved up. I've lost my pot-belly.

Fucking weird.

I've become slightly agoraphobic, and I'm torn on if this is something I should cultivate or try to shake off.

I took pictures of my room here. I've brought them onto the internet for you guys.

This is what you see when you walk in the door. Before this room was "Misha's room" it was "the blue room."




I sleep on the couch. It actually folds out into a bed, but Jesus Christ are futon beds uncomfortable.




The closet's pretty full, even though I really don't have too many clothes here. Important parts of this photo: Skull, Unicorn, Beanie Baby, Toilet Paper.




The book shelf. I've only brought enough to read over to use one of the rows for myself, the rest of the books are my grandfather's. It should be pretty obvious which is mine.








This is where I do my work. Surrounded by bidoofs and crabs and bees and things. Memories of Orlando. I miss you guys. :/






The view out my window is pretty badass. Check this shit out.




Finally, a strange piece of my past. I think I drew this when I was 6 or something. Apparently I was a very modern child.