Personal Writing: My Room Every time I open the door to my room, waves of hot and musty scents of piss and sweat fill my nose. I have a contentious debate with myself whether or not to open my closet. I'm afraid that the dead mice of sugar hungry ants will invade my subconsious and give me bad dreams. Debates over, closet lost. I guess I'll listen to some music. I walk to my stereo, put in Polvo, and listen to Bat Radar over and over again. Suddenly I have the urge to write, so I push the magazines, clothes, small scribblings, and other crap to one side of my love seat, and get out some paper. To increase the w