This is the first entry in my new diary. There are two moments of satisfaction with diaries, one when you write the last page and the other when you write the first. I write a diary every year because of my Uncle Angus, he’s a genius, but he’s also two stops down from Barking. Even though he’s a bit mad, he’s the person I trust and admire most in the world. One of the reasons I like Uncle Angus so much is because he thinks the same sort of things that I do and hardly anyone else does that. Also, he doesn’t like very many people, I can’t think of many people I like, in fact, at the moment, I can’t think of one apart from him.
I never say my name in my diary, names are what other people choose for you, parents, family lines, nicknames from friends. I don’t want to be defined by a name, there are a lot of things I don’t want, a lot of things I don’t like, you should hear Uncle Angus go on about the things that enrage him. But it’s because of all the stuff that I don’t like that people poke their noses into my business. It really pisses me off. But then most people of my age are really pissed off. People think that if you don’t conform, if you don’t make friends, then you’re a fully-fledged nutter, they can start asking why. I don’t make a conscious effort not to conform. I’m just bored with the whole thing.
Tomorrow’s the first day of my last year at school, or at least, the last compulsory year. Am I looking forward to it? I’d rather get into room 101 with the rats. Actually, that’s about what I will be doing tomorrow.