Category: 1995

1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I tell you Sis, this freezing weather really makes me respect English streakers.

Monday, 10 July 1995 1:11pm S, Oh-my-God-oh-my-God it is so Goddamn cold here I’ll be lucky to make it home with all my extremities.  I tell you Sis, this weather really makes me respect English streakers.  You have to have enormous dedication to the cause of public nudity to get your gear off in this type of weather.  It’s like 4 degrees here. I’m so … Continue reading I tell you Sis, this freezing weather really makes me respect English streakers.

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1995, J's Diary Entries

What if I wig out in the bedroom and she tells people?

J’s Diary Entry Friday, 7 July 1995 I don’t want to do anything about Chloe unless I am completely sure that I won’t be rejected.  And there’s the question of whether she’ll want me once she knows more about me.  Self-mutilators don’t get much good press you know.  And there’s the whole sex/performance thing which so poisoned the air between Leah and I.  What if … Continue reading What if I wig out in the bedroom and she tells people?

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

All good tools have the word “power” in their title.

Wednesday, 5 July 1995 4:02pm S Got my Group Tax Certificate today.  I earned $27,500 last financial year.  That’s $2,500 more than Simon, and we’re on the same wage.  It comes from all that overtime I did last year when I came close to burnout.  All that effort, and I don’t really feel $2,500 richer.  It does make me, paradoxically, want to make some more … Continue reading All good tools have the word “power” in their title.

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1995, J's Diary Entries

This is my brother, laying his shredded heart and soul bare. If you only read one of his posts please make it this one. S

J’s Diary Entry Tuesday, 4 July 1995 I’m walking down Collins Street, around 6:30pm, and I see this couple walking towards me, and I think, How do they do it? How do they make it seem so effortless?  This drifting apart and coming together again, like the sea and the shore. I don’t know how people can just meld so comfortably. I feel twisted and … Continue reading This is my brother, laying his shredded heart and soul bare. If you only read one of his posts please make it this one. S

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I even had on a mohair jumper! But all to no avail.

Monday, 3 July 1995  12:28pm S, Howdy.  Another heater-hugging morning down in the Antipodes.  I’ve got my big bulky coat on and The Stone Roses in my Walkman and I’m feeling nice and cosy.  I actually went to that party I was telling you about in my last letter.  It was in Richmond, between two factories.  Simon came over about 8pm with half a slab … Continue reading I even had on a mohair jumper! But all to no avail.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

Friday, 30 June, 1995 9:30am Hi Sis, So, how about Hugh Grant’s little brush with the seedy underbelly of urban America?  Poor bloke, he’s really blown it (couldn’t resist, sorry). I feel a bit sorry for him, did you see the look on his face in that mug shot? It must be on the front page of every rag in England.  Everyone here keeps saying … Continue reading I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m writing to you from the belly of the beast.

Tuesday, 27 June 1995 8:04am Good morning, At least, it is here anyway.  I’m in early, kudos to me, kudos to me.  I woke up at 5am, listened to the radio for a while, and, seized with expiatory zeal, I thought I’d come in early to make recompense for my days of wayward bludging earlier this year.  Truth is I couldn’t get back to sleep … Continue reading I’m writing to you from the belly of the beast.

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1995, J's Diary Entries

I fear the vulnerability of confession.

J’s Diary Entry Tuesday, 27 June 1995 Sometimes I think about how much I’d like to explain myself fully to someone.  Someone who would just sit there quietly, open and non-judging.  I’d like to explain to them how a cheery boy with a love of reading developed a penchant for books exploring the “darker regions of the soul” he had not personally acquainted himself with. … Continue reading I fear the vulnerability of confession.

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1995, Letter from Grandparents, Letters to S

Did you name our great granddaughter after a dog?

27 June 1995 Dear S, Jack and Brady, We received the two sheets of photos yesterday, thanks ever so much.  Dear little Brady is beautiful and like all new babies not so keen on her bath I see.  She is a lovely plump little girl.  I see her very much like you Jack but also see you too S, but a real little girl.  Some … Continue reading Did you name our great granddaughter after a dog?

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1995, J's Diary Entries

I just want people to know I’m not what I look like.

J’s Diary Entry Sunday, 25 June 1995 It’s funny how little things can have such an effect on you.  I woke up early this morning, feeling over-vodka’d, and staggered down to the kitchen to gulp down freezing water to replenish my brain.  I went shopping at the Little Food Mart just down the road, and I have vowed to never shop there again for fresh … Continue reading I just want people to know I’m not what I look like.

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