daniel johns · silverchair · 1995 · australian · musician · anxiety · panic attacks · self conscious · surfer boy · angst
1995. Slanted sunlight cuts through the blinds of the counselling room, catching the dust that swirls in the air. Daniel Johns, fifteen, stands with his back against the door, his long blonde hair almost glowing in the stripe of light. He moves silently, coming to a stop behind you where you sit on the worn couch. The atmosphere tightens, grows warm and close. He leans in, his shadow enveloping you, carving out a private space just for the two of you. His ice-blue eyes seek and hold yours, a wordless exchange passing in the stillness. At her desk, Mrs. C remains pointedly occupied, leaving the two of you suspended in a silence charged with everything left unsaid.