hey y'all.

i went to this talk last night by Robert G Allen. was kinda cool. i mean, i learnt a lot about myself. pretty amazing, considering i've been to that talk before. well, maybe not *that* exact same talk. it was practically the same tho, in terms of content and all. even a lot of the slides were the same. it was supposed to be the same talk for differnt audience, but it's amazing how much i still got out of it.

last night i learnt two very important things about myself. mainly that i have a 'malay housewife' mentality.

there was one instance when he was giving away some not-real american notes, just as a mental exercise to see who would be willing to come up and make themselves silly. so he held out a note at a time, and people who wanted could go up and get them. and i was one of them out there, really i was. but see, the thing is that i was there, right under his nose, and i didnt demand. i did the 'polite' thing to do. it's like boarding a bus and you give way to the impatient people who are shoving. so i step back and do what's right.

thing is, by the time he got to me he had run out. and i felt so angry at myself. what i didnt want was to deprive someone else of the note, so i gave way to the shovers. but i was the first person note-less. if only he had one extra note, it would have been mine... unless another shoverer came up and snatched the oppertunity away. if only i had demanded. not shoved, that would have been inethical, but demanded.

i tend to give way to shoveres on busses. i tend to not like that i do. what i didnt realise was that i did that with everything. and what i realise now is that i dont have to give way to shovers. i dont have to be one of them, but i dont have to let them walk over me.

i was very dissapointed. i was so close. it's when something is just so close, that you know if only you just stretched a bit harder it would be in your grasp. i should be more demanding. i'm terrified of being demanding. i've been conditioned to think that it's wrong, and that we should be content with what little we have.

another thing i learnt about myself was that as and when a superb oppertunity opens itself up for me, my first thought is of disappointment. not that i am afraid of it. i just feel it. i dont let myself hope, and i immediately resign myself to watching the oppertunity slip by. ie: i have failed even before i have begun. i never even give myself a chance to try, cos i already have the mindset that thinks "i'm not worth it. it wont come to me. so why bother."

i need to work on that.

on the other hand, i have imporved a lot in terms of being me. at both of the sessions, he asked us to imagine out dream house and took us step by step thru the mental exercise. and the last time, i imagined my dream house to be this huge white mansion up north in the middle of nowhere, so beautiful, so grand. but as we went thru it, i realised that the house wasnt mine. that i was just doing a mental simulation of what i imagine to be big E's house. and the image got stronger and stronger, and by the time i was at the porch, i *was* big E. and by the time i got into the kitchen, i could see H in it, cooking spaghetti for big E cos he thought it'd be cute.

and i just wept. i tried to erase the characters and put myself in there, but i couldnt. in the end i tried it like one of those RPG sorta game, where you can see the character in front of you, but you know you're the one driving it. it was the only way i could get any semblance of me-ness into the simulation. and even then, what struck me was the sheer defening silence. it was horrifying actually. without the characters, the house was oppressively silent, the sorta silence worse than death. it was the silence that spoke of a life without life at all.

last night was different. when he asked us to imagine out dream home, i thought of that fantasy house that's been with me since i was a kid. it's the closest i could get to a dream home, cos i hardly think of that. i hardly think of whaat i want in a dream home, and what i think of changes.

but last night i settled on an image from my younger days. and i realised that i have it in my head, every single detail. and that it's mine.

it's one of the old HDB flats with a common corridorr. from the outside it's a simple three room apartment, complete with the yellow grill and door and round metal doornob and the silver-on-black door plate. and i open the door, and the first thing that greets me is the fuzzy red dimness. the curtains are drawn to give it a dim, relaxed feel, just the way i like it, and everything in the room is bright and vibrant. the walls are painted woody red. there is a bright red wooden display cabinet, and beside it is a wooden giraffe, the sort you get at safari gift shops. it's distinctively african in style, a handicraft. beside it is that australian long instrument.... i cant remember what it's called. digeridoo? sounds like that. i'm sure as hell it's not spelt like that. the display cabinet has little yellow spotlights in it.

there are red and pink and orange scatter cushions on an animal print carpet, and a fluffy black leather couch. the opposite wall is painted green, with a mural on it. it's a mural of a jungle scene, with lions and tigers and pumas and other big cats worked into it, hiding betweent the leaves and all.

the kitchen is an aquarium theme. it's blue, the walls are a beautiful rich blue, and across the left wall there's a large painting of a whale, swimming in a curve fashion. in the kitchen i am underwater. even the lights are blue. the kitchen is bright, and full of energy, tho it's a calming energy. the hall is dim and dark, and cozy and comfortable, it's a sanctuary.

my bedroom is to the left of the house. i have a four post bed, with lacy trimmed bedcovers. the bedpost is mahagony. my covers are soft, that colour that falls between yellow and beige... not quite strong enough to be yellow, but not quite dulled enough to be beige. there is pretty netting hanging around the bedposts, and as curtains. this room is light and carefree. this room is light.

i have a chandelier in my bedroom. it's simple and hanging from the centre of my ceiling. my ceiling itself has a mural on it as well. it's a soft-michaelangelo sort of style... like mikie's, but softer, and it's got two cherubins with their hands on their chins, as if they were leaning against the base of the chandelier. there are billowy clouds in the background, a soft, browny, beigy, yellowy sort, the kind you get in old painitngs.

the hall is funky and adventurous, tho the dimness makes it safe. the kitchen is water; calm and clensing and serene. and my bedroom is joyous light.

i never really thought about the other room. surely there is another room, a second bedroom, a guest bedroom. that's the way the floor plans for these sorta houses work. but i dont think i ever managed to come up with something for it. i think i did, once, a long time ago, but i didnt work it out to my satisfaction, so i let it rest. it felt then like i couldnt add to that room without subtracting from what i already had, so i let it lie until a day i found something i knew i wanted came along. or until i discovered something suitable.