As a child, we may have left our things just about everywhere. When I grew up, I felt like cleaning isn't cool and every time my mom mentions my clothes just cluttering everywhere, I get mad or irritated. I used to call it "organized chaos". I know where my things are in these islands of mess. I know on mess number 1, I keep my underwear and handkerchiefs or on mess number 2 I know my new pair of jeans is under there. Beyond the messy façade of my little world, I know where things are and if someone (or I) tidy up my room, it would ruin everything. "Now it's tidy but I can't find any of my stuffs!" I used to think it was cool. I wanted to be cool when I was a bit younger. Like it would better the quality of my life. It DIDN'T.

It was what I became a person. I was a mess (NOT that I became addicted to drugs or anything) but deep inside there's a direction on what I wanted to be. Somewhere deep down in the mess. Maybe.

It's hard when, as a teenager, you wanted to belong. I know that on that certain stage, we long to be a part of something. I used to join good group of people but they're just too good and I thought I'm not fit to become one of them, so I join the bad group but realized I could never be that person and then in between, where I also feel like I can be more than just plain old me. As an individual, I think we are hardwired to feel the need to be a part of something. There's nothing wrong with that. The feeling of discontentment is what starts eating us from the inside. Why are we not contented? I don't think we are hardwired to be not contented. It's the WANTS, I guess, makes us not contented.

If the person has a creaking bed and has the money to buy a new one that can last for five generations, then so be it. If you have a bed that is already sturdy but you found that day bed featured in a makeover channel on Youtube (yes, I watch them because I love Mr. Kate so much), you decided to buy a new one exactly like it, then I can tell you, you may not be contented.

Next year, they may have a new design that will tickle your fancy and get a new one just like it. I have mine for 30 something years and I can say it is sturdy as hell and will last several generations. I do like watching Mr. Kate because of their creative ideas but not that I would throw out my good one. I can maybe paint it gold or black and design it. As long as it is sturdy (NEED) it stays. And besides, every time I see my bed, I remember that we stored away our beds stacked together in an unused room (now my room) and I, my brother and our childhood friend would play there. Or when it was raining when I was first year high school and felt melancholic. It sparks joy. It does its job. I can never ask for anything more.