Local Haunts. "...but now im just a tear in the shape of a girl.
all i can ever do is cry about everything. about being happy.
about being sad. being confused. being mad. crycrycry."
Anon

I had a pleasant wander through the city centre the other day and gradually became aware of a siren call of melancholia from somewhere ahead. It was at once beautiful yet plaintive and people were clearly responding to it, being drawn along with me towards the source. Found this chap outside Holy Trinity in Market Street. he didn't exactly fit the image his music conjured but nevertheless he had people transfixed. It was whilst being pulled to him like a Pied Piper acolyte across the Market Square that his sad air struck a chord within and I remembered a piece I'd come across on the web years ago, from whence the lines above are taken. I know it's teen-emo-angst but I still find it ingenuous and affecting and return to it every now and then. See the full text over here. Her grammar and spelling are as troubled as she is but I think that adds to its strength. Anyway, if you're cheerful it may give you pause and if you're blue then take succour from solidarity...