Darling.

You think you're too broad, but I said to you that you're fine; girls like you (and you said only weirdos and cripples). I said no. This is because you're beautiful just the way you are; and you said I should dye my hair brown. It would look hideous, I've already forayed into follicle fabulations. Red is the only way to go.

You are not too broad; not too broad for me.

You said you don't like people you might like-like once you're properly friends with them. Because then you can't imagine anything.

And you said you thought one girl was pretty; I don't think she is, not like other girls anyway. But you are beautiful.

I feel guilty in front of Pudding because everyone thinks she adores you; and I think she does, but that can't stop us touching touching touching all the time, so sure.

You are not slim, nor delicate (except in mood) but you are something else that's wonderful and sepulchral and strange, all that at the same time. You're lovely, just lovely.

And today I ate:

Crunchy nut cornflake cereal-200

A smoothie-123
An apple-40

Pasta-523

Sweets-450