So I spent the weekend back in Yorkshire. My parents had asked me to sort through my accumulated belongings and sorting them into two piles the "Keep" pile and the "Obliterate" pile. It was a simultaneously cathartic, nostalgic and odd experience. Amongst the relics, the following discoveries are worth noting:
Russian text books. I actually used to be able to speak some Russian (until year 9).
For a brief period of time (circa 2003) I sported a vaguely Dr John Dorian (from Scrubs)esque quiff of hair. It lasted for one summer. I use the word vague in it’s strongest possible sense here.
A faded photo of an ex-girlfriends ex-cat. I have no idea what it was doing there amongst the piles of photos but it was there.
A plethora of 8-bit computer magazines from the Golden era of Videogames.
An excerpt from a Noir I was writing aged 17 (suprisingly competently written too)
I’m nearly 27 and those possessions are the ones that mainly stood the test of time. Thats a sobering thought.