J’s Diary Entry Thursday, 25 May 1995 I really must call Mum and S. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to call. Well, I do really, she’s been away so long now and she hardly ever writes. I don’t really know her anymore. And I worry that her having a child is only going to worsen the problem, make her more alien. God. My … Continue reading My sister is an alien.
J’s Diary Entry Monday, 15 May 1995 Just figured out I was snubbed on Friday night. I was not invited for Friday drinks on purpose. Jeremy blabbed. Well, not really blabbed, but he made it obvious. I was at the printer, and he asked me if I went straight home on Friday. I said yes, and he said something about how he had a few … Continue reading I need to get better at handling rejection. I guess I can’t make people like me.
Friday, 12 May 1995 Howdy S, I’d ask how you are, but I’m too self-absorbed in horror to think of anything but my own suffering. She touched me again, you know, the Ms X that I don’t want to name for fear of litigation. She linked her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder and quaked with laughter as I vibrated on … Continue reading When I’ve exercised all this wobble off, I might even venture out to pluck a fruit from the Girl Tree.
J’s Diary Entry Wednesday, 10 May 1995 My cold weather zeal has taken hold of me again. I’ve started exercising like I mean it. I haven’t had a “b” for a week (not long, I know, but I feel a difference) and I’m working hard at the book. I didn’t play Tetris once on the computer today, nor did I spend hours writing to my sister. … Continue reading I want to extend my bravado beyond these pages.
Monday, 24 April, 1995, 10:33am S, Howdy. It’s a chilly Monday morning, and I feel about seventy. I spent the weekend with Dad up at Nana and Pop’s. It was OK, better than I expected actually. The drive up with Dad on Saturday was torturous though. He tried to put the guilts on me, it went like this; “How long is it since you’ve seen … Continue reading We’re getting the internet at work. I can’t wait. There’s a whole bunch of stuff I wanna check out. Some of it’s even legal.
8 Mar 1994 Dear S and Jack, Thanks ever so much for the lovely perfume and the card and the phone call for my 70th birthday, it was lovely to receive so much attention. Gee I had a great day, in fact the whole week was just beaut. And at last we have been to Pomona which we have wanted to see for so long … Continue reading The weather is very important to Nana.
Tuesday, 1 March 1994 Dear S, I know I wrote only yesterday, but I need a holiday from work and I just can’t seem to wrap my head around the tasks at hand, so I thought I’d just start another one. Actually, I’ve got the pre-dentist jitters and I want to take my mind off it. I’m booked in tonight at 6.30, so I’ll be … Continue reading Tonya Harding skates like a lumberjack with undies full of sand.
17 Feb 1994 Dear J Well three letters of confusion from you in one week is more than I can stand. So for the first time in 2 and a half years, I think, I am writing back to you and I’m sorry for that. There’s so much going on here and I would rather you all just thought I was living some kind of … Continue reading You are so goddamn terrific little brother, I don’t think you realise it.
Tues, 15 Feb 1994 Dear S and Jack Have been meaning to write this for ages. Before I forget – Amanda Potter is engaged to an Argentinian – getting married in 1995, her sister Courtney got married last week. Tyler Hunt gets married and will be in UK in May. His father asked for your phone number. Doubt he’ll call. Did I tell you about … Continue reading Your brother is wasted and your Father’s Whore is a sour puss with a large double chin.
THIS IS ONE OF MANY LETTERS/WRITINGS MY BROTHER WROTE FOR ME, BUT I NEVER RECEIVED. IT WAS AMONGST HIS DIARIES AND OTHER DOCUMENTS I FOUND AFTER HIS DEATH, HE HAD WRITTEN “NOT SENT” ON IT. IT IS DATED 10 FEB 1994 AND SLOTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LAST LETTER HE SENT BUT HE DECIDED NOT TO INCLUDE IT, MAYBE HE FELT IT WAS TOO … Continue reading Perhaps I’m simply made up entirely of what people want me to be.
deadmansdiaries.com 