December 2011
14 posts
I’ve still got two of your bath robes hanging on the back of my door. Despite vaguely talking about giving them back to you, I never made much of an effort because, to be honest, I liked having a bit of Lux in my bedroom.
-Santiago
I’ve just spent a couple hours reading all our old conversations on Gmail, it feels a bit like talking to you again. I’m so happy to find them again, I thought I didn’t have much record of us. You know my memory is dire. I was hunting in vain for one really nice picture but they’re all just silly ones, which is just as good I guess. But they’re nice to read anyway. It...
You taught me...
How coffee is supposed to taste How to cook, and that using recipe books isn’t cheating What privilege means Where music comes from What good writing looks like How fashion works That I hated my job That I loved my friends That I still had ambition That there’s a whole world out there That I’m a good person, and worth caring about, and that I can do good things if I put my mind...
… even though we were just really getting to know each other, I thought you were incredibly special- so eloquent and intelligent, always sharing knowledge about surreal or little known things, fabulously creative (the t-shirts are so intricate and detailed), always up for trying new things and making friends, with a beautiful smile and a filthy laugh. Thank you for sunny times with...
I found out today- sitting on a bench in Bethnal Green I couldn’t believe it, that you no longer were there. I tried to grasp the last moment I remember you truly being you, being Lux. In the summer we had so much fun- that really hot day when we went to John’s and sat on a trampoline with a bunny and ate veggie burgers and laughed. You were always such a lovely, kind person every time...
I want you to know...
… that CM Punk won the ‘Pipe-bomb of the year’ award at the Slammy’s and his tribute to John Laurinaitis was hilarious. People reading this might think that’s silly but I know we would have watched it and laughed so much. I love that you got me watching wrestling and it was another thing we could share together. I’m going to your room tomorrow, I’m scared...
Lux, I want you to know...
… that we kept our date at the Tate Modern; you, me and a flask of whisky. The tide was out, so we went down to the rocks by the Thames and had a kip (is that right? a kip?) while St Paul’s chimed and the rain came down-one for me, one for my homies.
The exhibition was somebody called Taryn Simon. I liked it, but I don’t think you did (too many footnotes) so we cut it short and...
I spent about forty minutes sitting outside your door in Tooting today. I had to know for sure. I was so sure this was all just an elaborate ploy to get some more sewing time in. I would have spent longer if it wasn’t so damn cold but I guessed no-one was coming back, particularly not who I wanted to see. Your favourite neighbour with no more girls let me know, he has such a way with words....
Very early on, before we lived together, she was in my room. I went downstairs to get a drink, and when I came back up she’d vanished. I knew she wasn’t downstairs because there was no way to sneak past me down there. She wasn’t behind the door or under the bed when I checked. I opened my wardrobe and she was sitting in the bottom, wearing an old penguin hat I had and grinning....
After paying rent and bills and things I couldn’t afford presents this year. I’d been making her something but couldn’t buy gifts for my family or anyone. She gave me money on Friday morning and told me to go out and get presents for my family. She made christmas happen, and I never got the chance to show her what I got them with her help, or to properly thank her. She was the...
Lucy's Blog →
She hadn’t updated it since the start of the year, but it shows how amazingly talented she was. She always had a way with words, and her short stories show her wonderfully creative mind. She picked up sewing relatively recently and was brilliant.
Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room I am I and you are you Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, Speak to me in the easy way which you always used Put no difference in your tone, Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me,...
I can’t understand why you did what you did, but I hope that you are happier now. I had so much fun with you. Christmas won’t be the same, it seems that every year there is one fewer person at the table.
A lot of people have been coming to the house, everyone loved you so much. I found the cookie cutters you bought for me, thank you.
Tory is here at the moment to keep mum company,...