"I intend to scream, shout, race the engine, to do what I want to do and be whom I want to be and answer only to myself."

To quote ABIGAIL FISHER!* (yes, right back at you, name dropping all over the place,) "This weekend was like a story."
*Did I even spell it right? Oh, imagine the shame if I spelt your name wrong.

It was like a story, too. An Enid Blyton novel of some description. Only brought to modern times, with lots of Horny Nick. Too much, some might say.

And I mean, whatever, everything about everything was completely ridiculous, and my parents think Mr Gooch is utterly retarded, and he probably is, and we probably all are, but I guess thats nice, in a way. In the words of Tully, 'we're as screwed as a knob on a cornflake,' but it's a nice sort of screwed, isn't it? It is, in all the oddity, a strangely comforting mental image.

"I’m the girl who’s lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding further and further into the background. I need the thing that happens when your brain turns off and your heart turns on."