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My room
It's being colonized by "stuff" (I was going to say crap, but the individual objects aren't crap, it's just sort of collective-crap).
The two main ingredients seem to be books and magazines (the latter primarily consisting of back issues of The Economist, with a healthy dose of the New Yorker).
I feel like I'm in some sci-fi movie where the "stuff" will just grow and grow until it takes over completely.
The two main ingredients seem to be books and magazines (the latter primarily consisting of back issues of The Economist, with a healthy dose of the New Yorker).
I feel like I'm in some sci-fi movie where the "stuff" will just grow and grow until it takes over completely.