So this is the way,

School today was so weird. I think I entered my formroom twice in the entire day, and neither lasted longer than five minutes. During break I was in the ICT room trying to finish keying-in the Yellow string arrangement, and during lunch I was finishing music coursework, wandering off to meet Nikko and Ed, playing Schindler's List Giorni Dispari together (squee – Sam joined in too, so I got an idea of how the violin harmonies sound outside of Sibelius synthesisers), practising string ensembles for the end of term service tomorrow, then going back to print off all my composition coursework. After that, I think I wandered confusedly around the Burton Fayre and wondered what had happened to my chances of a sandwich.

I did get the final copy of Yellow printed, though. All the parts are extracted and sitting on the desk just next to me looking exceptionally smart, as are all the parts for my composition. Now I just need… players. But still, exciting. I get such a kick out of knowing I had a part in the writing of each.

And my sniffliness about the SR is tempered now by seeing just how out of it Nikko was at lunch. Slightly. And he even told me how awful and unfun it was after a little prodding. Clearly we weren't missing anything, Ed. Cough.

Got a ticket for Kerfuffle, finally. Should be good.

And I don’t want to miss you tonight.

Continuing to transcribe I Giorni Giorni Dispari in an attempt to keep busy and distract myself from sniffling. I'm running into problems though, as I can't transcribe effectively while listening to Sigur Rós. And I need to listen. Last time this happened, it was Jenni and a U2 concert. That was a… long time ago.

Besides, sitting down is necessary after we were cruelly forced to walk to Loughborough Uni for the UCAS thing – god knows why, as the boys' school went by coach. I'd have been far happier walking if I'd at least known that both schools were being treated the same. As it was, I felt… really awful when I got there. It just shows me what a hold the ME still has. It didn't help that the entire afternoon I was looking at my watch and thinking, train… London…

On the flipside, this morning was really good. Having Paul on the schoolbus was utterly fun, as were the questions later in the day about whether he was my French exchange partner or my brother. Both performance sections went really well, and the examiner actually told me my solos were excellent after I'd finished and she'd switched off her recording thingum, so I'm confident for a good mark in both. Many, many thanks, P.

For tonight: more transcribing, then an early night. I'll be making the most of not having my distraction.

I Giorni is on repeat. Forever.

Second day of surviving without parents. Discovery: rice can be cooked in a microwave. Rice can also easily boil over in the microwave, but that was more Grandad's fault. We've just dried it out and now it's the chicken korma's turn.

Everything else is going fine. Grandad and Sam managed shopping easily, though apparently they didn't end up buying much. We have cookies, however. And more orange juice. Easily enough to live on for the week after we destroy the microwave. Is it possible for chicken korma to boil over? We shall see.

School fun today, what was seen of it. Assembly relegated to common room, during which I argued with Lou about the utter wrongness of sending 21 text messages a day. Sadly no-one else was around except Meera, who failed to see any problem with it. Words fail. But Jon agreed with me in the Greek lesson, which was comforting. After that, composition lesson and a chance to key in a bit of the Yellow string arrangement into a version of Sibelius that will actually save my work. Damn you, demo version. With that and my free after lunch (that should have been spent doing Virgil, but never mind), I've very nearly finished it.

English skipped in favour of spending time in Bed Cupboard, and town was then approached with Nikko and (eventually) Ed, after being instructed many times to buy strawberries ("this big, red, little green thing on top, £1 bags but two of them") and after going over Lou's list of symptoms many, many times so that Ed could tell them to Nhoj who could tell them to James who is in Physics with Nhoj. I… think. I also think it would be far easier to just give Lou the £30 she spends on texts each month.

Ticket for Kerfuffle obtained, and ticket for Thursday's drama thing hopefully being obtained soon. It's been a productive sort of day.

And you can’t see when all your dreams are coming true.

Today at school felt… short. I'm not sure why, as the majority of it was normal workliness. I can't even think what we were doing. Dull things. Mock unseen in Greek – Mrs Kent seems to trust me and Lou to not swap translation ideas while she's out of the room, which is honestly very unwise since we do – unremarkable Chaucer, unremarkable AMS. Though… I got a D in the tragic hero essay, as I failed to answer the question. That's the worst mark I've ever had in… anything. It was written last weekend, so I wasn't on top form.

Break was amusing. As was lunch. I think everyone has accepted by now that Nikko is not going to stop saying 'o-m-g squee' until Wednesday's over. Gave Ed Schindler's List music to peer at for a while, but then he had Chemistry 'thing' so me and Nikko wandered to the Pineapple and Thornton's. We might possibly have bought a cd with Ed's money. Then again, we might not. I admit nothing.

I think I am destined never to set foot in Redhouse ever again.

Coping most excellently without parents. Since the bedsheet crisis of last night (averted when I pointed out they were hanging up in the laundry room – genius), we have successfully sorted the washing, put a load into the washing machine, set the dishwasher, unloaded the dishwasher, unloaded the washing machine, brought the milk in, and got me to (and from) school. And I cooked tea. Yes, it involved chicken kievs, spaghetti and peas. But they were quite delicious.

And I want to get free.

I'm so scared of losing your friendship because of this

I can't imagine that you're serious, which is why I think I don't mind

I don't know how you do what you do

I hope we'll make it worth the hurt

Or perhaps I'm just crazily possessive of you

Please stop it. Is that so hard?

But it's all and then it's nothing to me 

I take it back. Whatever it is that's strange or different or unsettles me about you, I can't say I don't like you. Because I do. I love you, in fact. Thank you for listening to the angst.

Or at least, I hope it never happens like that

19th March, 1am.

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly but merely vans to beat the air, the air which is now so thoroughly small and dry, smaller and dryer than the will. Teach us to care and not to care. Teach us to sit still.

Well, find me some words to sum that one up. I certainly can't. That meme on the desktop, I stopped writing that a while back. Words haven't been working expressing things properly lately. I'll be deleting it tonight. It's best that way.

Eureka!

Aha. I am defeating the transcription of that string arrangement of Yellow as we speak. Three pages so far, and now I can see how the pattern's working. I think I can do it. I would really, really love to be able to do it in the St George's day concert, as it's a lovely arrangement. Paul's said he'll try to rope in James to play cello, which means we could also do Plink Plank Plunk.

Er, backtracking. At the first round of the rotary, Me and Paul were Grabbed on our way in and asked to play in the rotary's St George's Day concert on the 22nd April. I was in it two years ago, as they get the current holder of the Ashby Young Musician award thingie to perform, and it's a really good concert – huge audience, few hundred, probably the largest I've ever played a solo in front of. Utterly terrifying, but far less so if you're in ensemble. This year, he asked us to as a duet, but also to organise up to 10 minutes of music for each half, involving ourselves but also involving whatever and whoever we liked. And thus, we get to choose the music. And organise.

I was hoping to get an arrangement of Einaudi's Nefeli with strings and piano so Ed could join in too – it would be fantastic. It's… looking difficult, though, so I'm also transcribing the Coldplay from mp3 so we can do that as an alternative. Then with a bit of luck we'll also quartet Pl Pl Pl, duet the Pleyel, duet/trio some folk thingies, trio the Entertainer, and I can solo Schindler's List as well. All things we've done before.

Tsotsi was good. Very good, despite the bleak and depressing aspects. Invited Susannah over for the Chinese as well as the film itself, and it was really great to see her – we haven't met up for things besides orchestras and choirs for ages, and it was so good to just get to talk and catch up on things. We've agreed to do it again soon. It'll be so strange not having her around next year.

So much to say, and no words that can say it.

Coldplay – Yellow (string arrangement)

words are not enough.

• English – Miller essay: Alison – what do you learn/what bearing
• Greek – final page of vocab
• Cicero – look at first 5 sections
• Music – WTH exes, three more? (one)
• Music – sort photocopies for AS performance

Last night seemed a little like the third act of All My Sons, for me. Not because of the obvious, but because… everything unspoken is out in the open. Don’t think you’ll know what that means, because I think I’m the only one who knows the whole story of this week from my perspective. I just want this there for me. And I promise it’s not just my optimistic nature that says they’re hope in the end of something that’s sectioned as a tragedy. You can be better. It’s there. I love Miller.

Driving lesson at 4, then over to Paul’s for a practice of the Pleyel (and some time to see him, because I haven’t in far too long), then a Chinese takeaway and hopefully a trip to see Tsotsi. Parents are going tonight, so realistically speaking it’s my only chance to see it in cinema. And I want to, if just to see Gavin Hood in the credits.

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.

So who’s going to watch you die?

Two days off two months, I call it. Or rather, never. It’s not like we’re going to stop here. That’s our triumph: we never will. Not if I have anything to say about it.

the confidence of a man who’s never known defeat.

Relient K – Let It All Out

It was such a beautiful day today. So gloomy this morning, but it had brightened up by lunchtime. Walking to music this afternoon was glorious, full of sunshine and wet air. Things are changing.

Wandered to Thorntons with Nikko at lunchtime (was viciously attacked by pigeon, though it escaped either being stamped on or punched, which looking back was a mistake), then wandered back to school and re-wandered to Thorntons with added EdnChris. Excellent fun. Then we went back and piano’d Onde Corte in the music block. Hrrm, Ed, I’ve been looking for Einaudi music for strings/piano, but there doesn’t seem to be any. See if you can find anything.

On the agenda tonight: WTH exercises. Phoning Paul about Kerfuffle and the SGD concert. Finding some way of sabotaging the UCAS thing on Wednesday, because if it weren’t for that mum could have said something other than “unrealistic” when I talked about Sigur Rós. Watching Hustle. Taking a long, long bath. And not staying up… too late, for sleep-detering things may happen.

For the love of Zeus.

ανηρπασεν.

This is the one single word in the entirety of the Hippolytus section I’ve been learning tonight that I just can’t work out. Everything else, I have a few different possible meanings and a present first-person, but this? Nothing. Anywhere. Even in my collapsing, centuries-old lexicon. Trifling and unimportant, yes, but I really, really need to know what it is.

*tears out hear*