It strikes me that when you take a picture of something from your everyday life (even something as simple as your bedroom) and look at it you begin to realise how bizarre it must look to those who do not inhabit it themselves.
Everyone has their 'thing'. My 'thing' is rubber ducks. I have a lot of rubber ducks. This is just a handful of them, on my windowsill at university. I actually have two 'things' - rubber ducks and cool, colourful socks. Every birthday and Christmas, without fail, my family buy me cool, colourful socks. I have Pacman socks, Mr Men socks, Sesame Street socks (we could be here for a while). I went to a ridiculously pretentious sixth form and was always getting into trouble for not wearing grey socks, and with socks as bright as mine it was impossible to hide them. One assembly we were being told off for not setting an example to the lower school, the particular offence on this occasion being (go on, take a guess) our non-regulation socks. The head of every friend of mine in the room turned towards my ankles. From what I remember of that day, the socks I was wearing happened to be lime green, and so with my legs crossed (being sat on the floor is no fun) I awkwardly shuffled to pull my trousers a little further down to cover up my uniform crime.