‘Quicksand’ – David Bowie
I am torn between the possibilities of something with Dodo and the love of Flash. I think what happened between us was futile (particularly since Dodo hasn’t replied to my letters), so I have turned my attentions to the gurlie-goth at Tech.
She knows I’ve taken a shine to her. Her name is Jo Jordan, I think. I’m too shy to talk to her! She’s going to the Val’s disco + the Pimm’s disco, but the other two aren’t.
The gig is off also. POOH!
We (Rodge ‘n’ me) can stay at The Videodome tomorrow night.
I’m worrying that Dodo won’t write back to me. I’ve begun to have doubts about our co-existence. It won’t develop + it was a bastard thing to do to Flash. Some discouraging people I’ve told think I’ve been stupid: Alison, Tina Montgomery and a few others. The only person to encourage me to follow my instincts was Roger.
Maybe I’m just beginning to realise that Dodo wouldn’t have done it just for the sake of it.
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NEXT TIME: ‘Magic Roundabout…’