J kept a diary for most of 1995. Having read all our correspondence and his diaries in chronological order, 1995 seems like a pivotal year for his thinking and the many changes and choices he makes.
Sun 1 Jan 1995 – Well, well, how exciting! A new diary. I’ve been dying to use it for the last few weeks, last year’s was simply too small for those days when I was feeling expansive. That’s a bit of a tragic indication of the deep blandness of my life, that the most interesting thing I write about on New Year’s Day is that I’m excited about my new diary. I’ve been quite ambivalent the last few months, not happy, but not depressed either. Well not most of the time, anyway. Today I sat around listening to Triple J Top 100 and holding a death-watch over one of my dope plants that I transplanted (I should say trans-murdered) the other day, which now leaves six plants. Also cleaned up the kitchen, washed some clothes and cooked some curried lime couscous and stir-fried vegetables with sour cream. Deeelish!
I must remember to watch Channel 9 tonight, there’s an interview with Cav’s Mother. There may be some clues therein. Listen to me, I’m Sam-Fucking-Spade! God I wish I had some vodka. Perhaps I should have gone out and taken some pictures. I’ve become enamored with taking pictures of all the places I spend significant periods of time.
Mon 2 Jan – 11:52am I’ve decided to start exercising again to see if I can shift some of this fat that clings to me, being overweight is no good for my self-esteem, which is known to be fragile at the best of times. I think I might start walking half-way to work each morning, try to get in an hour of walking per day.
Going down to bottle shop to get a bottle of Vodka and get pissed.
Tue 3 Jan – First day back at work, bit of a drag. Spoke to Mum on the phone today. I rang her to see if she was home and she got all deep on me, started telling me all this stuff about Dad from the past, how terrible a liar he is and how he lied to cover up the inadequacy he felt in the workplace. From there it spread through his whole life apparently. Mum told me how Dad lugged Lilith and her, then husband, along with her, Dad and S on a drive to Queensland when Mum was 4 or 5 months pregnant with me, which is a bit sick.
Jeremy latched on to me on the walk to Parliament Station and bored me to tears with stories about people making money so I drowned him in bullshit telling him that the Revolution is coming, and rich, exploitative bastards like him and his friends will be the first to go against the wall. He bought his train ticket with a fucking Visa Card for Christ’s sake. He probably thinks that’s sexy.
Wed 4 Jan – Walked to work this morning, to try and get rid of this pot gut. Took about an hour and a half and now my hamstrings are kinda sore. Sent Pop a birthday card today by Express Post. I hope he gets it in time, it’s his birthday tomorrow. I’m not sure how old he is.
Well blow me down if Simon didn’t surprise me today, he bought himself a Nic Cave CD, a shocking deviation from his usual Oz Rock and Euro-Disco (2Unlimited). Oh yeah, and apparently he and his girlfriend Kerry (romance of the century) are Splitsville when she goes overseas. That’s just cold, man, it must be like living with a death sentence.