(no subject)

[ghoti_mhic_uait]

And there it was; all the places we went, I reember walking there with you, a place for bein with you, a place for loving you. I feel you still, sometimes, when the wind is right, or maybe you are there. I smile, or I cry. I miss you so much.



In not entirely unrelatedness, I miss Chris. Tell me about Chris; what makes you think of him, what do you think of when you hear his name?

Comments

Chris

[absinthecity.livejournal.com]

I miss Chris quite terribly as well, in fact the longer he's not been with us the more I find myself thinking about him and how his life might have been today.

What do I remember best about Chris? Mostly that there was nothing false about him. He was one of the cleverest, most sharp-witted people I ever knew and he could so easily have been big-headed about many things, but I can't recall a single occasion where he stooped to that. He hated pretentiousness, and was very good at good-naturedly letting people know if they were in the wrong. He was very generous, and really did care about the people he chose to spend time with. He was also a damn convincing liar, and had me well and truely fished in on more than a few embarassing occasions :)

He's someone I feel priviledged to have known.

[verlaine.livejournal.com]

Chiefly I remember him for writing huge screeds of absolute nonsense on Mono.

As one who considers writing huge screeds of absolute nonsense on Mono (or similar) the greatest pursuit of them all, I happily take my hat off to him. I think I only met him the once, but he did seem a nice chap, yes indeed.

[wildeabandon.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I see someone who moves like him, and then I look closer and it isn't him at all, and then I remember, of course it isn't. But that's what I remember most, the way he moved, so relaxed he almost seemed asleep. I remember the way the sleeves of his jumpers always used to be stretched, far longer than his arms. I remember getting very stoned with him and giggling long into the night. I remember the smell of him. I remember helping him to clean the blood off his arms. I remember fucking him, every time telling myself it would be the last time. I remember bitching with him, he was always far more imaginatively insulting than me. I remember helping him with his maths, and trying to persuade him to get up in the morning and go to lectures. I remember waking up a few hours later, and realising that we'd both slept through our lectures.

I miss him too.

Bitching...

[absinthecity.livejournal.com]

Oh yes :) Chris was about the most accomplished bitch I've ever met. He used to wind me up whenever I bitched about anyone and go "Hmmmm, cutting!" but I never took it as an insult as I knew he saw it as being as much of a fine art as I do ;)

I do remember wondering if he bitched about me as much as he bitched about almost everyone in their absence, but for the forementioned reasons didn't especially care :)

A trip to Oxford will always be particularly memorable. I couldn't believe -- and still can't -- the sheer number of people he knew. He was meeting long lost friends literally after five minutes of arriving there, and this continued all day with many interesting and eccentric characters met. His ability to get on with anyone was one of his best qualities I think.

[ghoti.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I see someone who moves like him, and then I look closer and it isn't him at all

Me too.

I still recite the mantra 'Chris, Chris, your trousers are falling down and everyone can see your arse' sometimes. And I think of those morning conversations

"Do you want some breakfast?" "Yes please" "What would you like?" "I'll just play the piano for a bit"

[duranorak.livejournal.com]

I won't answer this; I can't. But I want to.

Thinking of you.

E.
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