oddly shaped emptiness mapped by what surrounded them

Lately I've been caught between obsessively journaling and analyzing all my teen experiences while simultaneously trying really hard to not take myself too seriously. I'm attempting to maintain a healthy middle ground between what I'm feeling and what outside forces tell me about what I'm feeling. On one hand Morrissey is pushing me to reflect on myself and mope, while my parents ever-logically tell me that I'm "just a teenager" and that "everybody has a rough time in high school". But the difficulty to see yourself with the clarity born of distance while you're experiencing strong emotions for the very first time is often underestimated. I'm guilty of this crime, even though I'm fully aware of its consequences. I often have to remind myself how I felt when I was little and was the only girl in my class without a cell phone before I yell at my brother for complaining about not getting the new PS4 (or whatever the new gadget thingy is these days). It's important to be balanced and thoughtful of these things.
Teenage bedrooms are a sort of reflection of this struggle in a teen. The bedroom is an effort at once to define oneself while still maintaining some remnants of past personalities, phases, and obsessions. The Virgin Suicides is a prime example of this:

The bra on the cross shows the burgeoning adolescence and sexuality of these girls, which is still bound by the rules and marking events of their upbringing. Of course, this is obviously a carefully conceived and thought-out composition. But even in my bedroom, I see examples of this same idea. My baby pictures sit beside printed images of Harry Styles which are covered in part by my posters of punk rock icons. Growing up all shown on the walls of a bedroom. I love it.