Tag: observations

1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

Thursday, 17 August 1995 9:07am S Geez, it’s been busy here, we’ve only got ’til Monday until the final “Who The Fuck Cares” proof comes out.  And I’ve been stressed to death trying to work up the gumption to ask for a raise.  It’s so difficult, how do you do it?  Do you have a particular mantra that you intone in an undertone as you … Continue reading I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

Saturday, 12 August 1995  11:55am S, Yeah, check that date – I’m in at work on a Saturday.  And what a Saturday it is too, the mercury is set to soar to 17°, the sun is actually shining, and I’m here working.  Mum’s coming in to meet me at 2pm, and after she jumps back in her horseless carriage and zooms back to “Poo Town”, … Continue reading I’m like ice-cream, delicious and sweet, but too much will make you puke.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.

Tuesday, 8 August 1995 1:27pm Wheeeeeeeeee.  I’m feeling all light-headed from champagne, courtesy of Cav.  He and his Dad, Jeremy and I just downed a bottle in the tea room.  Some cafe gave it to Cav at Christmas for being a regular customer.  It was nice, I’m no champagne connoisseur, but it was light and tangy.  It’s Cav’s farewell proper tonight.  Drinks at “Klicks” then … Continue reading I’m planning, conniving, choreographing a delicately balanced ballet of politics, greed and manipulation. I’m trying to get a pay rise you see.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

If everything is pointless, why not do anything, absolutely anything?

Wednesday, 26 July 1995 9:11am Howdy S, Another day.  Woke up late, no time to make my lunch.  Crept into my clothes, sleep unfurling smokily from my back as the tram sped me down Flemington Road.  And now here I am again, at this desk, blank as a soldier.  What difference does any of it make anyhow?  We’re all of us just big old sacks … Continue reading If everything is pointless, why not do anything, absolutely anything?

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1995, J's Diary Entries

I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, too plain, too sedentary.

J has cut out and completely removed three quarters of this page – all that remains is what he wrote at the bottom which follows. J’s Diary Entry  – Tuesday, 25 July 1995 Cav’s going to Canberra for a job interview tomorrow.  He’ll get the job, and he’ll leave (me) and go on to a fabulous life, never looking back.  I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, … Continue reading I feel like the neglected girl-next-door, too plain, too sedentary.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’ve been living in dreamland Sis, and now I wake to find the hound of reality with its jaws planted firmly in the wobbily expanse of my ass.

Monday, 24 July 1995 11:19am S, Christ, I’ve got to get out of here Sis. I’ve got to leave work.  I’m so sick of it here, I’m at the point where every little daily injustice outrages me to the point where I feel like my moral soul is being massaged by a cheese grater.  I can’t fucking stand it anymore. If I had a job … Continue reading I’ve been living in dreamland Sis, and now I wake to find the hound of reality with its jaws planted firmly in the wobbily expanse of my ass.

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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, 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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