Metaphorical Showers

I have just returned from holiday, a lovely sojourn across Europe with a backpack upon my back. I visited plenty churches and monuments, drank alcoholic beverages with vigour and bursting national pride, and may have even learnt things.
Upon my return, I was struck by realisations of various natures. Of course, this is quite standard for the traveller returning home, after completing the mildly stereotypical Eurotrip, but nevertheless:

I thought, this is a time to cleanse. For rebirth, of a very mild nature. Rebirth may well be a hyperbolic term to employ for my intended actions, but I am young, exaggeration is an innate characteristic. I still live at home, basking in my not-so-young youth and free rent, and have a medium-sized room. My room, although so familiar, has not been altered in it’s interior decorations since, my very long-lost youth, seemingly centuries ago, 2007 around.
Is there anything more cleansing than the redoing of ones’ interior decorations? (Perhaps, yes, but, of course, that question was merely rhetoric)

So, with joy, and the urging of Foster the People, I ripped (with care) my duct-taped set lists, romcom movie posters, photographs of friends, who are my friends no longer, from my walls. It wasn’t quite the brutal scene one may view in an inspirational scene in an equally inspirational film (with the Holy Grail drumming in the background), but it felt quite great. I felt: hey, this is exciting! New wall means new decorations (Ikea trip?!), which may correlate to a new work ethic for university, maybe a newfound love for exercise. If there was a metaphor for my entire wall-wiping experience, it would likely relate to a butterfly, so joyously emerging from that stifling cocoon. (This is a joke.)