This soft grass suggests 'softness' to me, but also at the same time 'lying-down-ness'.

I'm not a ice cream, i'm a human being

How do you make yourself not like someone?

Here is another marvy glimpse into the gothic basement that I call my mind.

When we did eventually get to the party - me walking next to Dad's Volvo driving at five miles an hour - I had a horrible time. Everyone laughed at first but then more or less ignored me. In a mood of defiant stuffed oliveness I did have a dance by myself but things kept crashing to the floor around me. The host asked if I would sit down. I had a go at that but it was useless. In the end I was at the gate for about an hour before Dad arrived.

What shall I say? I must tread a fine line between glaciosity and friendlinosity. With just a hint of 'you don't know what you are missing, my fine-feathered friend.

At that point Ms Fox came in and said, "Hello, carry on as if I am not here." Then she lay down on the floor.