let me explain the College thing. I was a free-spirited hippie. My dad thought it would be a wonderful idea for me to be in a Work Experience programme for people with cognitive challenges through the local college. I've walked in as a Flower Child who's favourite colour was green - the colour of peace. I was happy, carefree and slightly immature for my age, as most hippies are. I didn't have any warning that the students in my programme would turn out to be such jerks, until November, back in 1993. The collegue with the Cockney accent that I've had the hots for, turned against me. The hippie spirit weathered like a dying flower. I've became interested in London, once again, and I couldn't stop thinking about Routemasters. Every time that a student was cruel to myself, or another classmate, the uncontrolable thoughts would start running through my mind, again. I became very old for my age, red became my favourite colour, and I became obsessed with the red God, that you all know around here, as the Routemaster. I guess the questions are, "Did College destroy me, or did it make me a better person"? And, "Did I make the mistake of following my father's wishes for me to be in a programme with people who were lower-functioning than I was"? And "Would I still be a hippe, if I didn't go to College"?