Category: Letters from J

1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I refuse to go to a party where I’m the only person I know. That’s the sort of situation that leads to excessive indulgence and a Sunday of self-flagellation.

Wednesday, 20 September 1995  9:05AM Spoke to Dad on the phone yesterday, he’s offered me free tickets to the Melbourne Show. Apparently he and Uncle Beluga Big-Bum have supplied a few Jeeps for the judges to zoom around in while they check out the sheep and the cattle and the goats and the what have you. So, anyway, if I’ve got one of Dad’s business … Continue reading I refuse to go to a party where I’m the only person I know. That’s the sort of situation that leads to excessive indulgence and a Sunday of self-flagellation.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans Diaries2 Comments
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

It’s all a part of my mania for recording. I take photos of my house, places I go to regularly, friend’s houses, their tattoos, random visions that litter my day.

 Tuesday, 19 September 1995  8:11AM Hey Sis. I made it in. Just after finishing yesterday’s entry I packed my bags and went home.  Just felt way too crappy, went home and rang Mum for some hay fever advice and followed it to the letter. Made me feel a hell of a lot better actually.  So I sat on my couch, read my Sartre and listened … Continue reading It’s all a part of my mania for recording. I take photos of my house, places I go to regularly, friend’s houses, their tattoos, random visions that litter my day.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans Diaries2 Comments
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Weekend television is a graveyard. Nothing but sport and John Wayne.

Monday, 18 September 1995  9:20AM Empty weekend. Spent it watching videos and cleaning. Watched “Savage Nights”. It was OK, a bit pretentious in places, and a tad screechy in others, but you can’t really criticise a film when the guys whose vision it was is dead.  It’s about this guy with HIV, the guy who starred was also the director, producer, writer, and he even … Continue reading Weekend television is a graveyard. Nothing but sport and John Wayne.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans Diaries2 Comments
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

In a work context, this year seems to have snuck past while I was in the tea room.

Thursday, 14 September 1995  9:24PM Wow, I can’t believe it’s September S.  In a work context, this year seems to have snuck past when I was in the tea room, though I can’t recall what I did for New Year’s Eve at all. That’s a bit of a concern.  I really can’t remember what I did. I just asked Simon. He said I did nothing, at … Continue reading In a work context, this year seems to have snuck past while I was in the tea room.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans Diaries4 Comments
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Got a crick in my neck, from leaning forward in a meeting, trying to make myself look like a go-getter.

Monday, 11 September 1995  1:14PM I called you this morning.  And now I get to work, have a look at the calendar, and realize that my call was late, your birthday was Friday.  WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?  God, how embarrassing! I’m so sorry, I got my days mixed up.  It was a weird weekend. Friday night I went over good as my word, for … Continue reading Got a crick in my neck, from leaning forward in a meeting, trying to make myself look like a go-getter.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans DiariesLeave a comment
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

There’s no point in expecting anything from pointlessness.

Friday, 8 September 1995, 9:41PM Hey Sis. I’m all jittery, just had an unpleasant experience. My book was quoted as a source in the Australian Financial Review today, in a full page piece on Coles Myer (there’s intrigue galore there, even secret diaries have come out).  Hundreds of thousands of people would have read that article Sis. I’m quaking with fear. Now I’m starting to … Continue reading There’s no point in expecting anything from pointlessness.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans DiariesLeave a comment
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

It’s a psychological thing, no matter how painful the seat is, it’s preferable to standing comfortably.

Wednesday,  6 September 1995  8:50AM S, You know how I decry myself every Monday for my appalling behaviour at Friday drinks, and then promise never to go again, and then go again, and do exactly the same thing over again every week? It’s stopping here.  Last night Simon invited me over the road to burn some time before he headed off to a family dinner. … Continue reading It’s a psychological thing, no matter how painful the seat is, it’s preferable to standing comfortably.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans DiariesLeave a comment
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Meditation? Please! – I can’t even keep my feet still let alone my mind.

Tuesday, 5 September 1995  9:06am Whacko! New Discipline J is rearing to go! Yessiree. Up at the crack ‘a dawn. (Ten past seven – close enough.) I feel good. I was up early, I did a load of washing, I even included two extra ingredients in my sandwiches today.  I feel good.  I didn’t even pig out last night – I’m on the Wagon o’ … Continue reading Meditation? Please! – I can’t even keep my feet still let alone my mind.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans DiariesLeave a comment
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I feel like floating up and never coming back, maybe I could take up a career as a cloud or something.

The next letter I received from J was dated from 4/9/95 to 27/9/95 it was 23 pages long and just over 10,000 words, he named it “The Monster Letter”.  I have broken it down into days for posting here.   Monday, 4 September 1995  9:18 AM S, Oh God. God God God. How do I begin this one?  Maybe with a swig from the neck … Continue reading I feel like floating up and never coming back, maybe I could take up a career as a cloud or something.

Unknown's avatarDead Mans Diaries2 Comments
1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

Friday, 1 September 1995 9:14am I’m here.  I made it!  Roasted – purified – by the flames of public transport.  Lordy it was a trial.  You just never know what’s in store for you.  I’m standing there at the tram stop, waiting to be whooshed along tram arteries to the sticky furious heart of the city, pounding, pounding, pounding.  I get on, move to a spot … Continue reading How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

Unknown's avatarDead Mans DiariesLeave a comment