Author: Dead Mans Diaries

I am S. Sister to a fabulous brother and a sibling of suicide. Dead Mans Diaries is a memoir told through our letters, diaries and artwork. https://deadmansdiaries.wordpress.com/about/ Beautiful Echo Chambers is a blog where you can find inspiration, something interesting to read, something to make you think, laugh and feel from all sorts of fabulous blogs. As my brother would have said "Something to fill my echo chamber with Sis". https://beautifulechochambers.wordpress.com/
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Maybe I should get a dog. Dogs have no self esteem, that’s why they’ll do anything for you.

Tuesday, 14 Feb 1995, 9:13am St Valentine’s Day. Where’s my fuckin’ cards? I haven’t got one damn message of desire, and it’s already quarter past nine. I haven’t got any faxes, letters, cards, taped messages – not even a nudey photo of someone I’ve never met but glanced at briefly on Parliament Train Station, Platform Four. What’s the deal here? There was only one Valentine’s … Continue reading Maybe I should get a dog. Dogs have no self esteem, that’s why they’ll do anything for you.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I think celibacy is like greatness – some people seek it, and others have it thrust upon them.

Friday, 10 Feb 1995, 2:38pm OFFICE GOSSIP!  Someone gave four weeks notice yesterday Sis. Her name is Kendra, she’s a desk-topper. She organizes the printed page, massages it around, makes sure the typeface is right, the pages are OK and does last minute edits. They get to fool around with all the cool machines and get paid about $4000 a year more than me. I’m toying … Continue reading I think celibacy is like greatness – some people seek it, and others have it thrust upon them.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m never drinking beer again, not while I have the financial means at my disposal allowing me to indulge in less deleterious drinks.

Monday, 6 Feb, 1995 2:07pm S, Hi, it’s a new week, it’s a new letter.  I’ve just finished my bowl of rice for the day, and I have a little bit of lunch time left to fill in. I’m eating rice to atone for a weekend of orgiastic spending and stupidity. On Friday after work I was enticed over the road for drinks at the … Continue reading I’m never drinking beer again, not while I have the financial means at my disposal allowing me to indulge in less deleterious drinks.

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1995, S Diary Entries

Life and Death in a Garden.

S Diary Entry – This is my diary entry I found amongst my correspondence dated 4 Feb 1995. Today I “woke up”, the sun shone and I rediscovered my garden. I thought it was utterly dead but it was just sleeping. I wandered about in it, there is much to do. Most of my seedlings have survived in the greenhouse.  My mood lifted, the dark clouds … Continue reading Life and Death in a Garden.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Sis, I have a few questions about your impending Motherhood.

3 February, 1995. Tell me something Sis, Would you be upset or uncomfortable if your progeny turned out to be more intelligent than you? Or would you be pleased that you could squeeze out something of such high quality? What if it was more intelligent only in certain fields, not in others? How about if it completely outshone you in all respects? Would you feel … Continue reading Sis, I have a few questions about your impending Motherhood.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S, Our Troublesome Father

I hate eating in places where the table cloth is cleaner than my clothes. I like a dive, a greasy spoon.

Friday, 3 Feb 1995 Sis, Well, I didn’t end up going to that party at Christopher’s on Saturday night. What does he expect anyway, inviting me to a party where the only people I know are the host, who’ll be running around all night and someone else I haven’t see in four years. Christopher will be mightily pissed off though. I’m trying really hard to … Continue reading I hate eating in places where the table cloth is cleaner than my clothes. I like a dive, a greasy spoon.

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1995, J's Diary Entries, Our Troublesome Father

Fucking politicians – we’re left with the cinders of their excuses.

J’s Diary Entries Sun 29 Jan 1995 Relaxing day (eventually), alternating watching videos and reading. I finished off the Nikolai Gogol novel “Dead Souls” (finally). I also started and finished a collection of Joseph Conrad’s shorter stories and novels including the one that “Apocalypse Now” was based on, “Heart of Darkness” It’s pretty good, Joseph Conrad’s an interesting guy. Born in Poland, spent his life … Continue reading Fucking politicians – we’re left with the cinders of their excuses.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Maybe I’ll shout at the top of my lungs that photography is poor man’s painting. That’ll make sure I’m never invited back – sensitive, arty types.

23 Jan 1995 Dear S, Howdy. Dropped your load yet? I’m getting impatient. What is it, five months to go? In this age of instant soup and TV dinners, you’d think they could speed up the process a little. Eventually, I see all pregnancies starting and concluding within half an hour, allowing you to get back to work for the end of your lunch break. … Continue reading Maybe I’ll shout at the top of my lungs that photography is poor man’s painting. That’ll make sure I’m never invited back – sensitive, arty types.

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1995, J's Diary Entries, Our Troublesome Father

I just want to feel less disfigured by knowing there’s someone else out there wearing the same badges of aberration.

J Diary Entries Thur 19 Jan 1995 Sat diagonally opposite this guy on the tram who had the DT’s real bad. He had that alcoholic look about him; the seventies shirt, grubby slacks, sneakers. His worldly goods in a plastic supermarket bag. I could pick the DT’s, firstly because his eyes would open briefly under his beetling brows and then he’d frown harder and clench … Continue reading I just want to feel less disfigured by knowing there’s someone else out there wearing the same badges of aberration.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Most Journalists end up being alcoholics, it’s all part of the machismo culture of cynicism and superiority.

10 January 1995  Dear Sis, Hi, it’s me.  It’s Tuesday.  It’s dull.  It stinks in here. It really does stink in here you know. Remember in my last letter how I told you about the roof leaking? Well, the carpet is still wet, and it’s 33˚, it’s beginning to smell like Jeffrey Dahmer’s flat in here. Donovan called me Friday afternoon and invited himself around. Don’t … Continue reading Most Journalists end up being alcoholics, it’s all part of the machismo culture of cynicism and superiority.

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