I’m in my room, listening to All Time Low and Automatic Loveletter on my foobar playlist, and writing posts for two of my blogs. This could be another typical night from months ago, when in fact it’s only four days before my departure.

There’s not much change in my bedroom, except for an extra large suitcase beside the book shelves. It is already 3/4 full. I planned to bring two of my old books to keep me from being lonely, but turns out I only packed one old book: The Penderwicks. And bought four new books. Yes, four! I knew, considering the thickness, they would take up too much space and were quite heavy, but still. So here they are:

1. Catching Fire (The Hunger Games #2) – Suzanne Collins. I bought the paperback edition, as the price was almost half the hardcover edition. I doubt this book will make me feel like home, but at least this will keep me busy during the flight.
2. Everything Is Illuminated – Jonathan Safran Foer. Um, since Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is extremely awesome, I was curious to read another book by Jonathan Safran Foer.
3. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian – Sherman Alexie. I really don’t know what this book is about. I bought it just because it has a good title and cover.
4. Every Soul A Star – Wendy Mass. I don’t know anything about this YA novel either, except that the cover gives a heartwarming feeling.

One more thing about books. Several nights ago I arranged some of my books into a writing. I wanted to form a long sentence like “Home is where your books are” or anything. But since there was not enough space in my bedroom floor and I had no idea how I could take photo of that many letters, I only wrote: READ. Here it is, I printed and made it a bookmark (if you look closely enough, the bottom of E was made from Twilight :p):

That’s it about books, I must have bored you. Clothes, shoes, travel documents, instant noodles, they are all packed. I really hope everything will be ok. See, I’m a bit nervous because I’m not nervous, huhu.

Seeing my bedroom now feels kind of weird. Everything still looks the same. A queen-sized bed covered in broken white sheet, with books on the left side for night readings. A tv that is barely ever switched on. Some shelves made colorful by the spines of books. My room has always been the brightest room in the house. That’s because I want extra bright light to read. At 3 am, the light is already turned on, and you can hear the computer playing emo songs.

But in a couple of weeks, those shelves will be all dusty, there won’t be any books in the bed. There won’t be any books anywhere but on the shelves. No vague sounds of Quietdrive or The Used. It’s funny, because I feel sad not for myself for being away from home, but for the people here to see my empty room. I mean, I barely ever leave this room. And imagining them seeing those untouched books, this silent computer, somehow makes me feel so sad.