What You Get When I'm Super Busy But Haven't Posted For Three Days

Odd post today, but it's about my bedroom. My sisters and I always say "I wonder what people would think of us if they only saw our bedroom and never met us." (This usually happens when we clean and find something completely insane)

So I took a look around and thought about it. Here's what I gathered.
 

1. She has an Unhealthy obsession with Murtagh/Garrett Hedlund.

2. She must read constantly

3. She lives in a complete mess

4. She likes to wear black t-shirts (there's like a dozen on the floor) 

5. She likes horses and cowboy things. 

6. She must like pirates. 

7. She listens to Christian rock and lots of it.

8. She writes. Or scribbles. Or something. Maybe she just hoards used paper. 

9. At one point her bedroom matched and things were purple, but now insanity has taken over and her bedspread is a sleeping bag with sharpie drawings all over it.

10. She likes to draw. Once a year she draws something good. 

11. She has too many guitars. 

12. She is insane. 

13. But she's not a vampire because the curtain rod is broke off her window and sunlight can come in (though it's still a very dark room). 

                                   And that pretty sums up me and my room.
                                           But my parents have other ideas.
One day after spending several hours in my room and making like no sound at all, I came downstairs and my mom was like "what do you do up there all day? Do you have a meth lab?" 

                                                                  *cough*
                                                       Actually I was writing.
                   But every once in a while now I do say "I'm off to the lab."
 

Then a few weeks ago my room was clean and I asked my parents to come up and look at something. Well they did. My dad took a look at the walls covered (completely) in posters, the pictures of Murtagh ALL the way up the staircase, my dresser with pirate symbols glued to it, and the graffiti I drew on one of the walls and he just smiled and said:
                                                      "this room is evil."
No explanation, no nothing. Just that it's evil. Much like Sherlock Holmes (I'm talking the novels here, not the annoying TV version *my whole following abandons me*) my dad has great powers of deduction. Sadly, also like Holmes, he doesn't explain himself either.
                                                     So there you have it.
That wonderful room I begged for when I was twelve so I could finally move out of the room full of sleep talking minions is now less than cheerful looking, time swallowing, suggesting irresponsible behavior, and evil.
                                     To sum it all up- my room is awesome.

(And no, I'm not posting any pictures of my bedroom. If you saw how messy it is right now, I'd have to hunt you all down one by one and do a mind wipe on you, and I'm too lazy for that....I'm also too lazy to go clean it....)