I think it would be nice to have a girlfriend. I like the smell of girls’ perfume and the feel of their hair, and I like the idea of girls’ rooms with girl things in them that are entirely alien to me and yet both charming and fascinating. I like the clink and rattle of a girl’s makeup bag, like a magician’s bag of tricks. I’m jealous of how women don’t get judged for still sleeping with a cuddly toy as much as a man would.

I just don’t know how I would even begin finding a woman at all personally attractive. I could probably sleep with one - it would be no different to sleeping with a man I wasn’t attracted to. I just don’t see the point. I just don’t want to.

Strange thing, sexuality. We should all be bisexual, but we’re not.

I need to meet a human I am attracted to who has passion for creating something that we can work together with - preferably a musician or an actor. Not a writer or an artist. Maybe a painter. I can’t paint, so that would be okay. Besides, I like the smell of oils and acrylics, so that could work. Someone who can stimulate and encourage and maybe even compete with me, in our own safely divided spheres and mediums where envy or resentment can never get a lasting foothold. Someone who isn’t bloody practical or make tired reflex comments when you want to say something different to usual garden variety human banter. Someone who’s totally fucking bats by human standards, who likes dressing up or staying up all night taking photos of the people who come and go outside their window, and putting on too much eye shadow one evening, just for the hell of it, and buying baby food for dinner because they used to eat it once, right? There has to be a rawness to it all - an unpretentiousness and kiddish love of Just Doing It. An individual who resists the demand to conform.

Why is it I only see that person being a woman? I know very few men like that. True individuals. Men seem to increasingly feel the need to conform as they get older - maybe some silly outdated hunter-gatherer thing, I don’t know. Men wear suits - tie, shirt, polyester. Women wear whatever they want - trousers, skirts, dresses, reds, blues, yellows, earrings and make up, hair styled differently every day. Men must conform, must be homogeneous. Women are allowed to stand out in the sea of nylon. Men don’t become the old lesbian on the hill - the mad woman who wears purple and has one hundred cats. Men become either grumpy or mild mannered and slurp tea. Or have I got that wrong?

I’m sort of looking for a weird sort of cross between Wednesday Addams, Björk and Clea Duvall, but in boy form. As a preference. Breasts on someone I’m likely to be attracted to have previously not been a selling point, but it’s always really been about eyes, teeth and hair.

Never underestimate hair. Hair’s very important.