Director commentary, the vainglorious vanity press of video duet

Or is there one girl who does have friends but just can’t bear the thought that she doesn’t have as good a best friend as another? That to me is normal social pain.
- Dr. Michael Thompson, quoted in the New York Times

Misread and more said; little ghost in the body and one in the head. They're tearing up my high school but the streets around bring back the best (oh I was on my way downtown, or to John's, to see Alex, dressed for tonight at 6 this morning, my red bag, the year I turned red, and I fought Alison but we didn't wear shoes or panties and how I loved American history). Everyone I ask describes the opposite, the bellyache horror of cinderblock walls where each was his repressed and small and sad own precursor. I'm an ingrowth or an anachronism, alumnus unconsummated, and they never did send my diploma, so if you were to ask I can't prove it happened.

Jen consults the experts, John the horoscopes, and I turn to sleep-in sabotage. I couldn't feel one finger most of last week and there's something amiss between my throat and my ears; ghost in the body. Ghost in the head? I'm battling bad old nursed habits and all my false hopes for new seasons. This feeling like your muse has left you: you've only abandoned yourself. I think I could live if I could hear Clark Gable's voice in everything, corrosive and delicious. "You didn't do it because you thought about it," he'd say. "You thought about it and you were scared!"

Well, bowl me under, handsome misfits writin' the Internet. Us kids understand each other, and no other girl needs hairspray (and only hairspray) at this hour. I'd break out and walk downtown right now if I could. I was dreaming — boys, girls, dreaming, and now it breaks me up to say. I held utterly false beliefs and I was wronger than I've ever been in my life and I wound up broken-souled and loose-lipped on the thin side of the dividing line between a shrieking Southern nervous breakdown and my own reflection.

Leave me home to come down with the spell of my own sickness. I'm thinking I'll deck the next person who tries to tell me about the Belle & Sebastian show in October. Fuck you. I'm going to be dressed up and passed out, alone in a beautiful city I hate, dreaming of girls somewhere who must be doing the same.

Mary Jo, back with yourself
For company, keep telling yourself you're young
and it'll happen soon
- Belle & Sebastian, "Mary Jo"