I'm not exactly in the social butterfly mood of the late. The feeling I'm having is so similar to the beginning of this year, when I just came back from Thailand, when I did not want to reconnect my handphone, nor did I want to get out to "reunite" with the people I have not seen for half a year. I dreaded the meetups and catching ups. I just wanted to be at home in my bed on the third storey where I will peep out of my window if I kneel on my bed and lift up the curtains a little to see the world go by. Not like there is anymore activities than the morning qigong lessons by the greens. Oh but there was somebody to wave to.

It was a big room, but it didn't belong to me. Alone.

Now I no longer peep out of the window. I lie in bed and stare at my room. It is so pretty. I have my beautiful lamp, my bedside table, my barang barang chair and everything else that just blends in totally. I visualise my new easel and chair by the bed. I might even paint the easel black to match everything else in the room. Maybe a new beret will complete the look.

It is a small room, but it belongs to me. Alone. Here, where I do my solitary dance, sing my solitary song and drop my solitary tears. Here where I live in effy's world, confined by 2 walls of plum and 2 walls of white, where I can ignore the knocks on my door and convince myself that I can live my life just the way I want it to be. I can have as many imaginary friends as I like - Billy Mary Tommy. I can have wings and I can fly.

And I have no intent on moving anywhere else from this state. Maybe that is why I am beginning to love Mr Johnny Walker. He keeps me in this half dreamy state I like.