The Four Walls Of Me

All of us are guilty of whittling away time glued to those personality quizzes; how could they know that particular quirk of ours despite being a virtual stranger? It's fascinating and quite satisfying, for on some level, it's reassuring to know that we aren't as weird as we thought we were. Our idiosyncrasies are shared by plenty; must be if someone, somewhere, managed to predict them via an algorithm alone.

Yet the real key to analyzing someone's personality lies in the clues around them: literally. Our rooms are all any psychologist worth their salt (or any perceptive FBI agent spying through the webcam) needs to unravel our personality. Think about that the next time you're cleaning your room.

Look around you: what do you see? Is it a mess or spotlessly clean, barely lived in or decorated with posters of all your favorite bands? Why did you pick that particular color to paint the walls? Or maybe you weren't allowed to pick at all; how has such restraint affected your personality and attitude? Think like the FBI spy.

What do you dislike when you look around? Is it the layer of dust coating the piano you once wanted to play but gave up midway? Is it those Math books you never gave away, despite having no further need for them? Or maybe it's the clothes littering the floor; they won't let you walk but you simply must escape the clutter, for it breaks your heart to see your room this way.

Perhaps your room wasn't always this way?

Is the stark contrast indicative of some major upheaval?

Why did you place those particular books at precisely eye level, attracting all who enter?

What is your room trying to tell you about yourself?
And why aren't you listening?

Come, introspect and cross-examine the place where most of our best stories are born. The humble room, our personality.
Remember to add "The Four Walls of Me" to your description; don't worry about cleaning up even if we do drop in unannounced.