Sometimes when I go to my bedroom, I like to turn the lights off even though I may not go to sleep. I go frequently when it suits me--which is often enough. I enjoy the peace I feel inside my four walls. It is my temple and it's where I live. It's where I come from; it's where I'll die. When people ask me where I'm from, I want to say "I'm from my bedroom." Of course they wouldn't realize I'm still there.
My bedroom is a haven of solitude and comfort. I open the door when I hear a gentle knock, not a loud rush. That's when I retreat to the nethermost corner. I don't like the noise pollution.
I am a good listener so long as I'm interested. I'm always interested when I'm in my bedroom.
Life swirls around and around outside my bedroom, but inside it's like a banana split; it's cool, refreshing, and it makes me full again. There's no place on earth I'd rather be. It will be my death.