There are two avenues where I think everyone should express their personality: their closet and their bedroom. When two people share a space, no matter what, there will always be a clear divide. Nowhere is this more present than in a college dorm room. This is all we have so we have to express ourselves in any way we can, even when we don't try, it comes out. I look across the room, past the 6ft barrier that divides us and on her side, I see her even though she is not there. She's quirky but she's neat. She's not a minimalist but she's not a poser. She has an aesthetic that comes naturally to her in the wicker baskets and the dark grey wall and the cute white comforter. She has a black and red throw blanket to show her pride and all of it is cohesive and enough. I come back to my side and I see me. A maximalist bed that gets taken apart every night and put back exact to convey the sameness. The bed gets used but it itself is a constant part of the decoration. I see my colorful teacher wall covered in women and vampires but also art that I have made and that people make me. I see a tiny amalgamation of my soul, tethered here temporarily. Teen angst has a new texture and it is every shade of pink. I also see my clutter and trash, constantly replaced to the same area day by day. Organized chaos. That's all I am. And wow, I love it.