From: S Date: Friday, September 06, 2002 09:00 To: J Subject: Oh J, Life just doesn’t get any more fucked up than this. Barry’s mother killed herself on Tuesday morning. It’s all so strange, I’m struggling to understand any of it. The phone rang just after 3am, phone is on Barry’s side of the bed, he answered it, groggy and said “Hello, Oh, Yes, I understand. Yes, ok.” and … Continue reading Try explaining suicide to children.
From: ‘S’ Date: Tuesday, 12 March 2002 08:23PM To: ‘J’ Subject: Forget Jenny Craig try Chemo Ok, just about finished the “Hobbit” and have “Journey to the End of the Night” by Louis-Ferdinand Celine sitting there waiting for me, are you impressed or what? God I love Amazon. Dick called last night, God he’s dull and morose – in a please feel sorry for me … Continue reading Cancer seems to agree with Mum. She looks great.
FAX to S from Mum 30 April 1996 Dear S, Jack and Brady, Thank you so much for my birthday card and presents. I had a lovely time opening them outside the mail delivery centre in the car. Everyone around me must have thought I was a nut case. I opened the letter opener first and was thrilled, then the tray, which is really cute, … Continue reading Pretty sure you bought that dessert mum.
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?!
6 December 1994 Dear S, This may be the last letter you receive from me. The expedition is not going well. My compatriots are fading badly, it’s the heat you see. Today the mercury has risen to 38˚, yesterday it peaked at 40˚. There is no respite for any of us. I fear we shall all perish. We’ve already eaten three of the camels, and the … Continue reading We sat around listening to CD’s drinking Kahlua, being urbane and bitchy.
Thursday, 1 September 1994 Dear Sis, How’s the birthday girl? Mum tells me you’re jetting off to Spain for an el cheapo face lift to halt the inevitable march of Father Time. How old are you now anyway? It doesn’t matter, you being five years older than me and all. I would gladly give the flower of my youth in exchange for all the arcane … Continue reading My social life is about as exciting as a Methodist cake-stall.
This is one of J’s diary entries I have written of in the “ABOUT” page. I could not replicate the cut outs using WordPress so I have scanned a word document using blackout to represent the pieces my brother expertly removed. Continue reading Dear Diary What has introspection ever done for me? Huh? Answer me that.