August 7th, 2006


Dear oh dear...

The inimitable lord_semjaza, musing on being 21 and remembering being 17...

Here.. well, I was 17, angsty to levels that a diagnosis of clinical depression just begins to explain (yeah, the two do quite often go together, and they certainly did in my case), and quite painfully trad/deathrocker with a hint here and there of a burgeoning fetish influence...

...and one *hell* of a Heathcliff complex. I could quite frequently be found wandering the moors, in the rain, at obscene times in the morning.

The only reason I wasn't actually calling the name of a lost love was that I hadn't actually managed to lose her yet.

(A shameful omission, and one I corrected pretty damn quickly.)

Context farts in your general direction.
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