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Not my best artwork ever. But...
Mar. 29th, 2011 12:37 am...these are the only pictures of Debbie I have. I drew them from memory a couple of years after she dropped out from my sight, when I had decided to write a superhero story featuring her.
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Jan. 10th, 2010 09:25 pmYour result for The Your Type of Girl Test...
The Favorite Friend
60% Sexy-Cute, 70% Dark-Light, 44% Artsy-Stylish
Cute, Light, and neither Artsy nor Stylish, she's that friend we've all had. The great girl. The one we've been friends with since the third grade. The one who laughs at our jokes and sends funny text messages. The one with whom we secretly, desperately want to crawl under the covers and spend the next eighteen hours naked.
</table>
Take The Your Type of Girl Test at OkCupid
Debbie and Ruth were DEFINITELY like that
Clare was as unlike that as possible.
Cathy was unlike anything or anyone I will ever meet again.
So, on the whole, not bad, test.
All right. Let's get one thing straight
Oct. 2nd, 2004 11:39 pmI should not have to say this. The diseased imaginations of a couple of people, one of whom has chosen the name of a villain for her alias, have made charges against me that no sane person would imagine, but that, having once been made, I cannot ignore. As I know that the filth concerned read this LJ, I am writing this here; with the proviso that I will repeat it in any forum they care to mention.
I last saw Debbie Wallace six years ago. I have never made any effort to meet her again, and in fact avoid the quarter of London where I last knew she lived. I love her still, and I will love her till I die. She never was "my girlfriend", but she was a loyal and true friend. She always knew that I love her, and eventually we found ourselves forced to part because it was impossible to live with the fact that one person loved and the other was a friend.
But the friendship of Debbie Wallace is something stronger and nobler than many people will ever experience even in their love. I have seen her in action, and I tell you that I believe in heroes because of her. Wherever she is now, I want nothing more in this world than for her to be happy; if she is, I am too.
And if I mentioned her in a story and in poetry, it is because she deserves it. She is the finest person I ever met; meeting her was the greatest experience of my life: and I could no more be silent about her than St.Paul could be silent about the Lord. She deserves nothing less than glory, as I said in my sonnet that ends: "And you are known, upright before your Lord/ As you're in truth, a fair and naked sword".
This is what I feel for Debbie Wallace. And the people who call this creepy probably fear the realization, creeping upon them, that they could never in their whole life hope to inspire a love like that.
I last saw Debbie Wallace six years ago. I have never made any effort to meet her again, and in fact avoid the quarter of London where I last knew she lived. I love her still, and I will love her till I die. She never was "my girlfriend", but she was a loyal and true friend. She always knew that I love her, and eventually we found ourselves forced to part because it was impossible to live with the fact that one person loved and the other was a friend.
But the friendship of Debbie Wallace is something stronger and nobler than many people will ever experience even in their love. I have seen her in action, and I tell you that I believe in heroes because of her. Wherever she is now, I want nothing more in this world than for her to be happy; if she is, I am too.
And if I mentioned her in a story and in poetry, it is because she deserves it. She is the finest person I ever met; meeting her was the greatest experience of my life: and I could no more be silent about her than St.Paul could be silent about the Lord. She deserves nothing less than glory, as I said in my sonnet that ends: "And you are known, upright before your Lord/ As you're in truth, a fair and naked sword".
This is what I feel for Debbie Wallace. And the people who call this creepy probably fear the realization, creeping upon them, that they could never in their whole life hope to inspire a love like that.
