My Fantasy Room

I'm laying back on the bed in my bedroom on a cold winter morning, savoring the warmth of the handmade blue and white quilt that my grandmother gave to me on my birthday three years ago, the last birthday before she passed away. On the desk next to the window is my computer. It is beckoning to me. I have to write an essay titled my fantasy room but my bed is so comfortable not even that can get me out of bed right now. I picture my fantasy room this way: here I am sipping on a cup of Lipton tea with lemon and viewing the atmosphere of relaxation inside a cinnamon smelling sanctuary with muddy plastering walls and Motown music, now moving toward the location of the room I see to north is a window where I hear city pigeons chirp, to the south is an exit door leading to the kitchen, to the east is my chair, and at my right foot on the floor is a purple plastic basket, and inside of it is my school tools and text books, such as Hodge's Harbrace, English Composition, Learn To Write, Familiar Essay, pens and note books. Now, I have three primary topics to discuss, such as, The Decoration, The fully furnished room, and The Technological advances.
First of all, my fantasy room would be decorated in a way that would make me feel totally at ease. The walls would be painted a tasteful shade of pale green, the color supposed to be the most soothing. Psychologists have conducted studies proving that colour can affect a person’s mood. Also, a deep plush carpet in an intense blue would cover thee floor from wall to wall- the huge closets with sliding doors would contain my wardrobe of size-eight designer originals. The closets I have now are always messy and crowded, stuffed with old shoes and other kinds of junk. Lastly, on the walls, silvers frames would hold my memories: pictures of me with my sports car and musician friends, news clipping reporting on my social life, a poster advertising the movie of my most recent best-selling novel. Everything would be quiet and tasteful,