My day finishes at two, so I get home quite early. I go and shut myself in my room, and put on some music (the Manics; natch). I lie there for a bit... on my sofa, thinking. I get a sudden flash of inspiration, and reach for my pad and pen.I've been scratching out this particular poem for a while now; it's not coming very easily. Writing about my self-harm always seems to be much more of an effort than writing about my transsexuality, or my depression. It's difficult to get the words out,. Renee and Christian were dancing to a funky mix of various soul songs."Yeah, they got da funk, don't they?" Warren laughed. "Their OD isn't as good as ours is, though, I don't think." True, but that free is something else. I love dancers that dance. They're not just dancing, they're shaking that thing."Just then Renee and Christian came off the ice. "Hey, Warren, Sophia! How you guys doing?" Great," Sophia told them. "That's some free." Glad you like it," Renee said. "What you guys got up your. More

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