leather-bound books and rich mahogany!

This makes me so sad.
For real, my bookcase (besides my clothes, of course) is the only thing in my bedroom that I even really consider mine, or representative of me. I don't think of my room as my room, really, it's just a place I stay in for now until I go back to school. Not that my dorm room is any homier...I just feel like it's too much effort (and too small a space) to try and make my room my own. Sure, I have posters on my walls, but I put them up knowing I'm going to take them down in a few months when I have to move again. But my bookcase is the one thing that has stayed constant ever since I moved to my current house nine years ago, and its my bookcase that I add to and rearrange with some weird sense of contentment and pride every break and whenever I'm bored. It's nothing impressive, but it's mine.
 Dreaming about my future house/apartment (I only do this SOMETIMES) I always include a small library. 
The pipe and scotch are optional. 
MAD BOOKS are not. 
Cell phones do not figure into this room one bit.