‘Awakening (Songs from the Treetops)’ – David Sylvian
THANK GOD! All is well with Gordon! A letter arrived today and it is the bestest letter I have received for yonks as ‘t’were, m’lad. I can’t wait to see Gitty and Dodo again. It’ll be heaven!!! Dodo says I’m sweet, and Flash’s parents aren’t getting back together, so he and his mum’ll soon be moving to Carleton Glen. One of the roughest neighbourhoods in Ponty, no matter what anybody says. I feel sorry for him.
As for my day:
I was shaight worried this morning about Roger’s ‘putting together’ of Wendy and myself. I was too embarrassed to talk to her, and vice-versa. Y’see, this is a dead un-goth situation, soul-brothers (aaardooo!), as Wendy and I have never actually communicated with each other in all our lives.
Roger and I searched all day for her, to no avail. And I felt much more uncomfortable every minute. Eventually, Roger arranged a meeting between us for the afternoon break, but she didn’t turn up. Even so, she told Roger she really wanted to get to know me and that she was as shy and embarrassed as I am. Seeing her later on, just before I caught my bus, I told her we should talk on Monday. And so, we’ve arranged to meet each other on Monday morning in the Common Room.
‘In God We Trust’ – Alien Sex Fiend
Also today, Roger and I were jeered a lot. By those shitty casuals. Calling us ‘Poofters’ and ‘Queers’ every time we passed them. Roger told me that the one in the green jacket was really asking for it. He told me he’ll eventually knack him o’er. Walking past a window, I saw the ‘Sheenie’ in question staring at me nastily. So I just walked up and gawped, straight in his face. As I walked to my bus, I saw Roger staring up at another bus and went to see what he was looking so intently at. It was the green casual! Roger said he was the one he’d been talking about and pointed at him, telling him he was dead. The Sheenie just sort of gave the usual, ‘oh yeah? C’mon!’ sort of look. So I just took the piss out of his expression. I think that by Monday, mine and Robin’s lives will be in shit street! We’re bound to get nacked, but who cares? FECK! Don’t I waffle on about loads o’ shaight! Well!
‘HOW RIDICULOUS CAN ONE’S PARENTS GET?’ DEPT.
Tomorrow, those fucking shit people who I hate, who live in our house (clue: one of ‘em’s pregnant!), are off to M. Keynes and R all getting up early. I’m not off. I’m off to Wisbech in the aft + the basterds want me to get up with them so I can light the fire, cos they don’t want to be in a cold house in the morn. How Fucking Ridiculous. That’s not the reason. THEY’RE JUST FUCKING
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NEXT TIME: ‘Dogs…’