I will miss my room dearly.

The first thing that blocks your way when you enter - a new IKEA shelf I excitedly assembled with Mum a few days ago, plus the books from the package that just arrived this month. Both are really weighty.

The regions round echo the sound of that from which I've learnt to read, write, speak, laugh and think, amongst other things.

Another shelf then appears near eye-level. Things get dusty quite quickly while they're on it, but I suppose I'll miss cleaning them equally soon.

One resident ornament that depicts my true nature.

My trusty MPB lies just below. I will miss typing on it late into the night - to people and for people. Of course that means missing those people as well. Deeply.

And of course its very sexy Iron Man II wallpaper. Which is, by the way, extremely cool even to girls.

Learning to live without music will be quite deafening I think.

Who needs a lake and a forest when you've got books, a glass table and an iPhone. Argh, no more daily tweets.

The stillness of the night is usually quite admirable from my window.

Right below it, my damsel stands, tall and elegant. I will miss caressing her and making her trill.

To the detriment of our relationship, I will be forced to embrace another kind of longish, black and noisy instrument as my only companion who vociferates without vulgar embellishments. It cannot compare to a Fender, although I will need to defend the country with it.

My bed rests beside my damsel. Poor bolster, there will be no one to hug him to sleep very soon. (Yeah, it's a him. My pillow's a her though.)

What I see when I open my eyes in the morning (assuming I'm facing up with my head tilted slightly to the left and free of eye-crap).

"Mirror mirror on the cupboard door, who's the darkest of them all?"

This is actually an empty contact lens case. I wear my lenses in the washroom. It's just an artistic close-up. You've been conned.

Vestiges of my childhood still reside in my glass cupboard. Eat this bomberman, I will soon have more firepower than you and your pitiful little marble.

And of course, it contains lovely evidence of how important all of you have been to me. This is a really big one, nimbly crafted by Duck III with her own hands. I will miss being heart-warmed when I happen to cast my eyes on random things.

And finally as I type, time ticks away in nonchalance, and I'm that much closer to the next rung on the ladder heavenward.

Jesus, lead my march to Calvary.