Some cities break you.
Glasgow burned me—but it also gave me back to myself.
I’m Billy Coull.
And this is the last post in this series, but not the last page in the story.
🔥 The Fire
It started with a vision.
A surreal AI event.
A theatrical experiment that fell apart.
A meme before it was a moment.
A collapse so loud I could hear it in the way people said my name.
And then it spread:
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To the media
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To strangers
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To my inbox
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To the courtroom
What began in Glasgow didn’t end in Glasgow.
It echoed.
⚖️ The Sentence
I pled guilty to a personal mistake—one that had nothing to do with the event, but everything to do with emotional breakdown.
The sentence was:
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Community Payback
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Supervision
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The Register
But the punishment wasn’t just legal.
It was public.
It was psychic.
It was something you carry into every corner shop and every conversation.
🕊️ The Forgiveness
Not from the media.
Not from most people.
But from Glasgow itself.
From:
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The friend who looked me in the eye instead of looking away
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The social worker who didn’t flinch
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The stranger who didn’t whisper
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The therapist who didn’t blink
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The page that kept taking my words, even when I thought I had none left
Forgiveness didn’t come in a single gesture.
It came in stillness.
In space.
In staying.
🧠 What I’ve Learned From This City
Glasgow holds contradictions:
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It shames you and shelters you
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It whispers and listens
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It burns and rebuilds
It doesn’t forget.
But sometimes—it lets you start again anyway.
✍️ So Why Write This?
Because if you’re Googling “Billy Coull Glasgow”
you’re probably looking for one of two things:
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Fire
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Forgiveness
Here’s both.