Efficiently cramming seven grown men into a dorm from various countries with ages leaping from 17 to 35 is not a description of a prison. In stark contrast to windows beautified with iron rods, my current dorm room feels liberating. When the walls of petty annoyance are torn down by brotherly love and service, tight quarters spark friendly antics. From waging wars on the cricket invasion to conquering the world on a chess board, bunk bed strewn rooms have become a blessing.
From my bunk bed experiences (see picture), I have learned that life can be grand when it is not about me
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