Paris
Paris Compression leads me to him, and the boy I loved four summers ago; yellow jumpers and Bismarck, unusual arrows used to this day. This boy I lived and loved: if I never see him again, he will always spell me the same. Sunshine boy killed in France, my real one lost there too. A badly-timed email inviting me to Paris, a Parisian card which didn’t arrive. The romantic city I never understood.
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose leaves
The way I feel today - 10 July 2004
Just seventeen - 17 March 2004
Roads to freedom - 25 February 2004
Confessions of a failed self-harmer - 25 February 2004
Manchester, united - 25 February 2004