(no subject)
Aveline, your physical body may have died, but your spirit didn't suffer a brain haemorrhage and it lives on through the community of brilliant people that you gathered around you that you leave behind.
You weren't a person with whom I had much in common. From what I have been told, and a little you told me yourself in the too-short time that I knew you, our life experiences had been vastly different. Not really a surprise when comparing an activist punk BDSM mistress to a part-time goth lawyer. The mainstream would have people believe that I was the more “successful” of the two of us. But when I was around you, it was I that felt the lesser.
I remember meeting you at the 2002 Midsummer party at Renee's flat in Moreland Road. You were sitting comfortably, given the warm weather, in the wading pool in the driveway that Georgie and I had acquired. Beer in hand, chatting to others around you. I had heard many people I held dear talk of you as a Person Worth Knowing, and must admit that I found you a touch intimidating at first. That disappeared when I finally started to get to know you.
I also remember the last decent conversation we had, which was when we were both mucking down helping mordwen clean the kitchen of her rental flat before she moved out. You told me about your experiences studying Strategic Studies at ANU, and your dream to go to Russia to work on combating human trafficking. I told you...something insignificant I'm sure. A little about my background I think. Significantly more experienced and world-wise than I, you could have been dismissive. But you weren't that sort of person. You listened, and gave me advice without seeming too.
Aveline, I think half the shock of the past couple of days is that your friends and chosen family, to whom you were fiercely loyal, have suddenly realised that you were mortal after all. You who always seemed stronger than anything life could throw at you. And that makes us feel all the more vulnerable ourselves, that it could come to one such as you so suddenly.
Safe journey onward, my friend. Give 'em hell.
You weren't a person with whom I had much in common. From what I have been told, and a little you told me yourself in the too-short time that I knew you, our life experiences had been vastly different. Not really a surprise when comparing an activist punk BDSM mistress to a part-time goth lawyer. The mainstream would have people believe that I was the more “successful” of the two of us. But when I was around you, it was I that felt the lesser.
I remember meeting you at the 2002 Midsummer party at Renee's flat in Moreland Road. You were sitting comfortably, given the warm weather, in the wading pool in the driveway that Georgie and I had acquired. Beer in hand, chatting to others around you. I had heard many people I held dear talk of you as a Person Worth Knowing, and must admit that I found you a touch intimidating at first. That disappeared when I finally started to get to know you.
I also remember the last decent conversation we had, which was when we were both mucking down helping mordwen clean the kitchen of her rental flat before she moved out. You told me about your experiences studying Strategic Studies at ANU, and your dream to go to Russia to work on combating human trafficking. I told you...something insignificant I'm sure. A little about my background I think. Significantly more experienced and world-wise than I, you could have been dismissive. But you weren't that sort of person. You listened, and gave me advice without seeming too.
Aveline, I think half the shock of the past couple of days is that your friends and chosen family, to whom you were fiercely loyal, have suddenly realised that you were mortal after all. You who always seemed stronger than anything life could throw at you. And that makes us feel all the more vulnerable ourselves, that it could come to one such as you so suddenly.
Safe journey onward, my friend. Give 'em hell.