I don’t remember this day all that much.
Manic mayhem, and the toilets that bite. Friends were the main focus; I didn’t much trust my interpersonal skills, you see.
We have our moments.
This was my first PRIDE.
Having travelled down to Brighton early Saturday, I exited that little station perched upon the coastal hill to find a sea of primary colours. Rainbows floated about the breeze; streets bustled, bristling with characters, and the festival tide was was in.
Armed with alcohol and accomplices, I submerged into the sea.