About a year ago, in one of those rare moments where the internet gets it exactly right, I came across a fragment of a song I didn’t know I needed. I didn’t just like it; I recognised myself in it. There was something achingly familiar within the lyrics, as though it had articulated a feeling I hadn’t yet found the language for. The song was ‘Wet Paint’ by Girl In The Year Above. It lingered in my mind, making me feel as though the song had a magnetic pull that settled under my skin and refused

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