My apartment, the one I started out in, is small and drafty, but it's something I can call my own. It has minimal furniture; hand-me-downs from neighbors and stuff I found at yard sales. Sure, it's all been used before I got it, but it's still good enough for me.
My couch was once a vibrant blue (I'm assuming), but now is faded and more of a subdued, paler blue. My table has watermarks and gouges in it, and the four chairs around it don't match it or each other in the slightest.
When you walk in, the kitchen/dining room is the first thing you see. It's not very big, just an oven, a small refrigerator, about five feet of counter space, and my little table in the middle of the space.
It blends into my living room, if you can even call it that. That's where my couch is and there's a low, faded wood coffee table, but that's all. No TV, no computer, nothing extra.
My bedroom comes next. There are no walls to separate it from the rest, but the space is a bit smaller because of the bathroom. I couldn't afford a new bed (and still can't). My landlord offered me her daughter's old twin sized mattress after she left for college. It's on the floor, pushed up against the far wall, and I have an old rocking chair sitting in front of the window.
The dirty, old window.