Sunny Corner

This little old duplex, sitting dwarfed by the large looming apartment blocks that surround it and bulge onto the once quiet street, features prominently in any reminiscing that I do. It represents the time I consider my coming of age. When I fell headlong into a hedonism of the poor and dysfunctional. Sunny Corner. It saw many late nights and early mornings as occupants sat buried in a daze of ciggerettes, journal keeping...the walls trying to contain the smoke, the low noise from Rage on the tv and the huntsmen.

I discovered I wasn't a goth, that I didn't belong on the "Gold Coast" and that Jeff Buckley was magic. I pawned all my unneccesary possessions and traded them for even more unnecessary ones and spent the rest of the money on coffee. Britpop was massive and being an elitest, purest or generally self obsessed self righteous twat seemed easy and natural. The rose-tint that memory glosses over this time forges it in my mind as the best time of my life.......