What's the betting that you don't do this?

Look at the back of your hands when you're typing and avert your eyes quickly, because the veins and the bones, specifically those that protrude, are vaguely emetic.

Count like I do, on good days.

Or bad. This could be bad.

a smoothie-200
an apple-40
two biscuits-100
340
1/2 a tomato and cheese baguette-300
a flapjack-300
baked potato with tuna -400
1000
salad and chicken-100
an ice cream-170
some ice cream-250
two biscuits-70
600.

So that's roughly 2000 calories- no small wonder, then, that clothes are tighter and I feel flabbier.

"Well, you don't look like a fool".

I'm going to analyse. I think that I'm catching dyslexia.

Ah, well. When you said that, I didn't know what you meant. Reassurance, because I'm just a silly little middle class girl? I feel, sometimes, like shouting, "I'm not! I'm not." I fear that you don't like me, because I think you're awesome, as I always do, for all the reasons that I'm not. Perfect control, the ability to make everyone laugh and to do well under pressure. The way that you bounce around, completely unafraid of being yourself, and silence everyone with a word. Assonance and alliteration, you know it all and I'm just trailing in the wake and fearing that I'm coming up far short. I like sitting and laughing at you at the back, with everyone else- I'm the canned laughter, I'm a wonderful audience but I just can't take the stage as you do, especially when you're there. I can't impress when I most want to. I clam up and stop, or do a poor imitation of you; I'm like a chameleon, I take on colours but I'm never the exact replication and you can find me out if you look hard enough, there are cracks close up. It's really just mimicking. You like people to look like fools; you play the fool, but you never are, you're always in perfect control and it's a paradox, or a palindrome; the same backwards or the opposite but true? I think paradox. Opposite but true. "No need to worry about being the most ridiculous person in here, 'cos that's always me, right?" Ha.

Is it true that you despise most the characteristics that you fear are present in yourself? I abhor one girl. She's disgusting, pleading and vile, strums for sympathy and throws tantrums when she doesn't get it. She knows everything whilst knowing nothing. See, I know things, but they're useless things, like the multiples of thirteen and the first sentence of 1984. They aren't practical. She thinks that she knows the practical things, but she doesn't. I hate strumming for sympathy, and I rarely do, I hope. It's one of my few virtues. Or am I sycophantic here? I am pitiful, but it's for noone's consumption except my own. I'm force feeding myself my own emotional crapulence. Or at work? I tell people that I think their work is excellent, when I admire them. I haven't told her properly yet. So I don't really think that I know everything. I don't think that I'm a tantrum thrower. I fear that I'm weak.

Brilliance is such an elusive trait.

Today the world seems grey, the honeymoon is over and I have to start buckling down.



There are pregnant girls and I want so badly to say, you're so much brighter than this, to AW. I suppose that this is what emotional attachment feels like. I actually want to give her a hug.



But then, what I want more is a hug from you. It doesn't matter which, it's just that I want someone to sink into and to tell the truth to. To say, when I'm doing that slow horizontal flick of my eyes in a darkened cinema, it's because I'm trying to gauge how much you like me. To say you're beautiful. Oh, I don't know and I know perfectly well. Action's the problem.