sebastienne

went to the rocky horror picture show last night.

it was rather weird.

i don't know whether i can quite explain - but i thought back to my 12-yr-old self, and how she'd have felt sitting there. it would have been everything she'd ever wanted.

i remember that misfit child. buying her first bowie album, her first placebo album, seeing velvet goldmine for the first time...all that time she was waiting, knowing that one day she'd go to the midnight show, find her freaks, her cult, the people Just Like Her, and everything would be alright for ever and ever. it was a beautiful time in her life, and she didn't even mind the waiting. after all, she had rocky, and she had dreams.

but last night, i realised, i did not go to the Late Night Double Feature Picture Show to find my freaks. instead, i took them there with me.

whether they were cheering, calling algy a slut, shouting 'anal sex' intermittently because they felt like it, unlacing my corset-top, stripping, or just practicing good old elbow sex...i had brought them.

i always felt called by rocky, by the cult. i felt instinctively it would one day be my home. last night showed me i already am home.

let's face it - i've seen bowie live; i've seen rocky horror twice on stage and once in the cinema; i have regular costume parties with a group of people as varied in interests, talents, sexuality, as in hair colour - the only thing they all have in common is their individuality and beauty; i own everything ever penned by the hand of oscar wilde...i'm everything the 12-yr-old me could have wished.

and so, i am going to proclaim my teenage years an unmitigated success.