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

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

I am looking at you and you are looking at me. This is very good. I am looking and I am liking. You are looking and you are thinking, 'I hope she doesn't hit me with her crop.' But that is because I am me and you are you.

Still, life carries on. Exams to be examined. Serious things to be thingied.

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.

How many times do we all have to do this? Get up, go to school, again? Before everyone admits it's a crap idea?

I will not have him in my brain;there is no room for anyone else in the cakeshop of agony. it's crowded enough in there already.