*this is not my house.. My finals ended, summer holidays have officially started and I returned to my home town. Although I am really happy living on my own in a different city from the one I grew up, I felt a great nostalgia when I encountered the house in which I spend my childhood and teenage years. And I felt the most homey and the most reminiscent when I entered my room. My bedroom was the room that I always felt safe, as no one could see me and judge me for dancing around and singing. Most importantly, it was the first place that I could call my own, where I could do whatever I wanted and I could do whatever I wanted with it.