I love you more than words. And I am a big fan of words.

Write a diary, imagining that you are trying to make an old person jealous.

I find that the only way to get through life is to picture myself in an entirely disconnected reality. I often imagine how people would react to my death. Mr Dunthorne's quavering voice as he makes the announcement. The shocked faces of my classmates. A playground bedecked with flowers. The empty stillness of a school corridor. Local news analysis. . . . The steady stoicism of my parents. . . . Candlelit vigils. . . . And finally, my glorious resurrection.

Most people think of themselves as individuals, that there's no one on the planet like them. This thought motivates them to get out of bed, eat food and walk around like nothing's wrong.

There will be birds and if they write your name in the sky then you can get on the buses and if they don't you have to die on the floor.

To us and a wonderful evening of love making.

I find that the only way to get through life is to picture myself in an entirely disconnected reality.