Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

One Day

In Uncategorized on October 7, 2011 at 11:34 am

Some passages I enjoyed :

I know from your letters and from seeing you after your play that you feel a bit lost right now about what to do with your life, a bit rudderless and oarless and aimless but that’s okay that’s alright because we’re all meant to be like that at twenty-four. In fact our whole generation is like that. I read an article about it, it’s because we never fought in a war or watched too much television or something. Anyways.  (p43)

When I get back to the so-called real world I’m going to buy a flat because that’s the kind of over-priviliged capitalist monster I am and you’re always welcome to come and stay. […] I have money that I haven’t earned and you work really hard and yet you don’t have money, so it’s socialism in action isn’t ? (p47)

Dexter handed her a five-pound note folded lengthwise. “Keep the change”, he smiled. Was there ever a more empowering phrase than “Keep the change” ? There had been a time, not so long ago, when the boys all wanted to be Che Guevara. Now they all wanted to be Hugh Hefner. With a game console. (p197)

Sometimes, she thought, she missed the intensity, not just of their romance, but of the early days of their friendship. She remembered writing ten-page letters late into the night; insane, passionate things full of dopey sentiment and barely hidden meaning, exclamation marks and underlining. For a while she had written daily postcards too, on top of the hour-long phone-calls just before bed. That time in the flat in Dalston when they had stayed up talking and listening to records, only stopping when the sun began to rise, or at his parents’ house, swimming in the river on New Year’s Day, or that afternoon drinking absinthe in the secret bar in Chinatown; all of these moments and more were recorded and stored in notebooks and letters and wads of photographs, endless photographs. There was a time, it must have been in the early nineties, when they were barely able to pass a photo-booth without cramming inside it, because they had yet to take each other’s permanent presence for granted. (p381)

“just kidding”  was exactly what people wrote when they meant every word. Too late to scribble it out now, but how to sign off ? “all the best” was too formal, “tout mon amour” too affected, “all my love” too corny… Quickly before she could change her mind, she wrote (p27)-

God I miss you, Dex

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