Thursday, April 22, 1982


I went into school at break intending to stay just long enough to get the title for our Art composition, but I ended up staying there all day. It was warm again, tho’ it did cloud over toward mid-afternoon. I tried to work but inevitably failed and ended up feeling unsure of myself.

I didn't plan on writing much but I feel like moaning on today. As we waited round after school to set off to Art, I got embroiled in an argument over politics with Deborah, Duncan, and Steve. We tried to pin Deborah down about her political views, and I waxed all anarchistic and unrealistic as usual, which led Deborah and Steve to call me a nihilist. Why is it I can't come across as I want at school?

Deborah talked about the ‘arguments’ of earlier this year and how Lee, Jeremy and I had made stories up and talked about her behind her back (all of which was just to get at Duncan), and I came to realise how pathetic and cheap we were, and even cruel. She confessed to being upset by it all and I went to Art feeling really worthless.

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