For some reason if my bed is made i feel like everything in my life is okay. It really doesn't matter what kind of chaos is really happening but as long as I have a well kept bed i feel at peace. Its a weird solidarity that I cant explain. I think it must have to do with the idea of people stopping by unexpectedly and seeing how you live. Growing up it was drilled into me that friends and family and sometimes strangers would be just dropping by to say hello and if the place was a mess they would exclude you from future contact. Those were also the days before Facebook and Twitter or really any social media to be able to check in with people without making a real effort. My mother had, correction still has a "No Touch Room". When I was a kid the room had white carpet, white couches white walls, glass end tables and every glass ornament a person could own protected by, you guessed it, giant glass cases. It was like the fortress of solitude in there. The room was located at the front of the house, I think because if these x variable house guest did arrive and knock on our front door they would see this glorious room and think that we were doing real well for ourselves. Which i don't feel is abnormal, i think a lot of us have a level of status drilled into our minds wether we are aware of it or not, and if you argue with that then your trying to tell me that you don't own any name brand clothes or products in your life? Just to clarify we were not dirt poor or anything but the all glass no touch room did act as a front for the other rooms that were laced with QVC must have items and home made wooden craft projects that we all did as a family. To double clarify i'm not making fun of those items i'm just saying if you were to have a stranger at your door would you rather them see a spotless white room showcasing rare glass objects or would you rather them be face to face with a Winnie the Pooh  life size wood cut out, exactly. Now i'm fully aware that my bedroom is not on the first stop on the house tour list but its the only thing i feel that can be my full responsibility. The kitchen not so much, maybe we just a big dinner the night before or breakfast that morning and someone else was supposed to do the dishes or put the bread away. Living room, same thing, I cant fully control pillow placement and misc. media storage 100% of the time. My desk might be full of a bills or a project i'm in the middle of when you came rap, rap, rapping at my door. The bed is the only thing I can fully 1000% have control over. I woke up and got up knowing that I was done with that piece of furniture for the day or at least a large majority of it. I travel a lot, i do 50 weeks a year on the road chasing a dream labeled as stand up comedy, coming home to a perfectly made bed makes me feel like i still have some control on my life. The path i've chosen isn't a path much traveled and there is no corporate ladder to climb or step by step process to success, so when I do see something in that is organized and well kept and more importantly in order it makes me feel like theres at least a little piece of me doing something right. I know a lot of artist feel that way, not about beds i mean about the "lost" feeling. Essentially its just me out there in the world, I mean I have a great family and friend situation in my life but at the end of the day Im the only one really responsible, we all are. Each one of us can only control a small part of our lives wether you realize it or not, so why not grab that control with both hands, hold on for dear life and try to steer things in the right direction? A well kept bed has a well kept and in control owner, control your destiny and make your bed. 

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