Eventually it just got really crazy. Less and less oxygen in the apartment.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
If there's one thing you can say about my apartment it's that it's constantly evolving, constantly changing. I think that is the mark of a good apartment; you can never really be done - It's like a proper wardrobe.
Apartments are getting smaller on a whole. Houses are getting smaller. People don't need great big vacuums anymore.
My apartment looks like no one lives in it.
I generally hate the luxury modern apartment with too many things out of sight and so clean you cannot touch.
I think even when homeowners love their room, it's still a shock, because you left your house, went to sleep, came home and your room was dramatically and drastically different.
I lived with my mom in a really small apartment. My bedroom was like in the living room. That's why I still love to sleep on couches now.
I called their attention also to the absence of all means of ventilating the hall, remarking that, as we had already breathed the air which it contained for a full hour, it must have lost much of its vital properties and needed to be renewed.
I think that people ran out of oxygen and don't really know what happened up there, maybe some of them just made things up because they weren't sure what had happened.
I'm so unmaterialistic in every way. If you saw my apartment, it would explain a lot, I think. It's not so much a mess, but it just needs to have some feng shui or a real 'Queer Eye' makeover or whatever.
I opened the large central window of my office room to its full on the fine early May morning. Then I stood for a few moments, breathing in the soft, warm air that was charged with the scent of white lilacs below.