Rob writes – 1st April 1995
Hi there!
I’ve just gone round Chrissy’s to show her the photos – yeah, they’ve come out and are pretty cool! (Although one whole film didn’t come out – bad news man!)
Amanda’s going to a party today, so was really restless and punched and jumped on me all the time! And Rebecca’s gonna have her picture taken today – professionally done.
I’m gonna get a few photo albums to chuck the pictures in so I can show everybody. I’ll send you some over when I get the chance.
My writing routine which I set myself is already shot away but I’m gonna try harder next week. Sorry for writing just about anything – there’s so many distractions – 5 minutes to scribble this rubbish, then off to Southampton post office to post this. They don’t close til 5 o’clock so thank goodness for that, otherwise you’d never get anything from me.
See you when I come over again (whenever that is!?)
Love
Rob
30th Jan 2024 – Even a slow news day was appreciated in those pre-internet times.
Me and you – 10th March 1995
For us both, this room was all that existed. The only things outside were the stars and the soft night air that twitched the golden curtains soundlessly.
Our whole world was here and in those slumbering hours before daylight, the world outside had no meaning.
The candle flickered gently, pulsing shadows to the ceiling and door. My half-opened eye registered the few drips of wax that ran the candle’s length to rest in a hardened pool on the cupboard. It felt like much time had passed though it seemed not to be passing at all. The candle flickered again.
The sweet smell of her hair caught my nose and my love appeared to me as a ghost suddenly there. Until that moment we were as one – I had not moved to feel her presence – perhaps she did not exist for those moments. And now I felt her with my whole body and soul. I felt my long arm wrapped around her, across her chest, our hands joined gently by her face. Her long smooth back rigid against my chest and stomach.
I softly kissed her neck, not with passion or haste – the tender kiss an angel deserves while resting in my wrap. Our legs parallel down the length of the bed, her feet resting on mine. I push my toe into the arch of her foot – every touch to her skin a thrill to my heart.
Ella is still singing out quietly from the speakers and I doze back to sleep to those luscious tones.
Later, minutes, maybe hours, I see the candle again – not much melted – time is not in our new world. My love stirs and moonlight catches her cheek, pale and phosphorous – the dim air explodes with stars. She turns to me and comfy’s herself to my body. Her warmth and glowing rising from her legs, through her torso, into our chest to share ’til the end of time. I kiss her forehead with the force of a feather resting on the breeze. My lips buzz spectacularly.
Rob writes – 1st March 1995
Hey, more writing space!
I went round Jon and Selina’s a few days ago to pick up the PA that Jon used for Thirst! They’re moving to a house just behind the Jackpot cafe, where Selina works in Portswood. I think it’s next week actually.
Basically, Dave’s been a bit of a jerk sometimes (well, only when he gets drunk to be honest) – especially with bands staying at their place. There’s been occasions which I won’t bother to go into, where Selina’s been fuming and then so pissed off with everything, and Rich said he’s not going over there again until Dave leaves and sorts himself out.
He just gets lonely sometimes I guess, and frustrated – well, he did throw a bottle at me down the Crown and Sceptre last week – I just stormed off….
Well, that’s all the scandal for now – apart from Selina having her hair cut shoulder length.
See ya
Rob
30th Jan 2024 – Dave was always ok when I met him but seemed to be a sad, bad drunk. Sadly he didn’t manage to sort himself out and I believe he committed suicide sometime in the next couple of years.
Reflecting On Sleep – 18th February 1995
The mirror reflected that tired face
Dark rings circle those dark cool eyes
Down-turned lips reflect the mood
The bite is waiting to be unleashed
Look inside that mind, reflecting
The thoughts have long since died
The body begs for merciful sleep
And hell to pay if not satisfied
A story of obsession – 7th February 1995
The beginning.
Dan pulled a chair up to the window, sat down for the thousandth time and stared straight ahead, at the building directly across. The window was old fashioned, long, with an inside ledge it was possible to sit on. The window overlooked a large part of the town but not quite to the harbour.
Dan got up, cursing, knowing he’d forgotten something. He returned after a quick run downstairs to the kitchen and sat back down and cracked open his beer. He took a long slurp and made the noise of a thirst quenched, burped loudly and proudly and sat the beer on the chest of drawers next to him. With a swift motion of his arm, he picked up the binoculars, untangled the leather carrying strap and put them up to his eyes.
He felt. like he was some general on a hill surveying the battlefield below. As he looked around he read out instructions in his head, “mortar, no. 19 hill street.” He focused on that area with the binoculars and imagined it blowing up, killing the innocent family inside. “That’ll teach those bastards,” he thought, “for not accepting my quote.” “There’s a man walking his dog in the woods, I can see ya, you goddamn spy,” suddenly the woods were aflame with napalm and the man was dead in Dan’s eyes.
As the sun faded from the sky and grey clouds moved over the light began to fail. This was the time Dan liked best. Now the explosions of bombs were far more exciting and they lit up the night sky for brief moments like lightning flashes from a wild and vivid thunderstorm. Of course, as soon as he put the binoculars down everything was normal, but Dan enjoyed these couple of hours of using his imagination. Sometimes, though not very often, he would miss some TV to do this. Dan got most of his ideas from the tube. Tonight he got bored quite quickly and stopped his observations when he’d finished his second beer. He went downstairs feeling slightly disappointed, grabbed another beer from the fridge and sat down in his chair to watch TV for the rest of the night. Kelly knew not to say anything to him.
Kelly went into the kitchen wishing she had someone to talk to. She turned on the radio, it seemed like her only friend on nights Iike this. Sometimes the cheerful songs picked her up but tonight they had the opposite effect. She sensed Dan’s mood and kept the volume down, this simple little restriction frustrating her more. She felt like she was tip-toeing through a mine field. She pulled a chilled bottle of sweet white wine from the fridge and poured herself another glass. She could feel herself getting slowly drunk already.
Kelly looked through the kitchen window into the blackness of the night, pondering her situation for the thousandth time. She still loved Dan a hell of a lot despite the way he treated her. She did feel a barrier between them and wished for something to bring them together. She walked back through to the living room and sat down adjacent to Dan in front of the TV. She set the bottle of wine down beside her, now half empty and warming up. It was her only cure.
They barely passed polite conversation about the usual run of soaps but when it came to the news Dan became very vociferous in his opinions. He spoke in a tone that denied reply. Though he sat quietly through the images of war beamed into their living room from around the world he haboured a desire to be there. Not a secret desire either. Kelly would nod and agree with everything Dan said not wishing to cause any friction. It was easier that Dan’s opinion was her opinion and she ended up believing it.
Time passed slowly, Kelly now on her third bottle of wine. She was feeling very drunk despite her system being used to the intake. It wasn’t a happy drunk but morose and sombre, a blanking out of desire and feelings.
When they went to bed they slept in foetal positions, Kelly tucked up behind Dan, holding on. Alcohol assured them instant lapse into unconsciousness.
When day dawned the sun shone across the city. Dan woke alone, Kelly already in the kitchen making breakfast. He sat up and yawned then got up and stretched shaking off the night. He walked towards the window, moved in front of the chair and looked out like he was a god surveying his creation. Suddenly aware of his nakedness he backed away and pulled on some shorts returning for one more shot of sunshine glory he saw a figure in a window a couple of streets away. In the brief moment that he was looking he could tell it was a woman’s figure. He wondered if she might’ve seen him naked at the window and wasn’t sure whether to blush or be proud. He quickly forgot about the incident but did make a mental note to look there that evening.
Dan turned and picked up the empty beer cans and dropped them into the waste. He went downstairs where he could hear and smell cooking going on. As he entered the kitchen they exchanged pleasantries, the sun bringing out a subconscious optimism in them both. For the first time in a while, Dan noticed how pretty Kelly looked, the sun illuminating her hair like a halo, as it streamed in through the kitchen window. He made the effort to pass comment on this, which brought a big smile to Kelly’s face. Just that one simple comment made her feel a whole lot better about herself.
Dan kissed Kelly on the cheek as he left, feeling rejuvenated, feeling like something good was going to happen to them. Kelly too felt a whole lot better and decided to spend a few hours walking in the park, thinking of ways of improving her relationship with Dan.
Dan was a painter and decorator by profession, he wasn’t a particularly good one but there was enough work to keep them going. It paid the bills and paid the mortgage and gave them a roof over their heads. That morning he was painting the hallway of some middle-class suburban house, not too dissimilar to their own. His mind wasn’t on his work, he was thinking about his wife and his future. He decided that he would take some flowers home that evening, foregoing his usual lunchtime drinks in the pub. He did still feel some attachment to his wife despite the loss of their baby.
Characters:
The married couple
The spied couple
Character one. The married man. Dan.
Dark, broody, well built, slightly unbalanced (have to demonstrate this in some way) macho but developing toward feminism i.e., not a total asshole, short hair not meticulous in appearance though can be when trying, enjoys rough things like slight interest in guns and knives, patriotic, believes what the papers say, hard-working, painter and decorator (enjoys his ability to go into other people houses, feels like spying), age 28, likes packet food or traditional food, interested in more extravagant food, kind of scared of trying new things, hobbies, not much, though did enjoy making rabbit hutch for sister’s son, has to be asked to do things like that, not much get up and go, a lot of time spent watching tv and videos, enjoys suspense thrillers, gets a kick out of people being frightened by a killer etc in a film.
Character two. The married woman. Ke11y.
Rather quiet, not opinionated though would like to be sometimes, overwhelmed by Dan’s loudness sometimes, medium height and build, dark. hair, pretty on occasion though bland otherwise, average dress though well dressed when going out, only goes out with Dan, most friends are mutual though Dan takes control most of the time (could possibly introduce one of their friends into the story too), she likes to drink fairly often more so than Dan, she likes to keep Dan happy, she had a distraught childhood, parents divorcing, stepdad nasty, somewhat insecure, she is presently unemployed.
Their situation.
Got married after she found she was pregnant but lost baby soon afterwards, he has held it against her secretly, he promises to start a family but keeps her hanging on cos he doesn’t actually want to at all, in some ways he feels trapped, he wanted to get married for the child’s sake and now would prefer to be single again, they bought a house in a residential area, on a slight hill, overlooking other houses but some wooded areas close by, he always wanted his own home so is quite happy with that, though not wealthy they can afford to live comfortably.
3rd Apr 2021 – I’m guessing I wrote this sometime in early 1995. I think I had some more ideas about where this story might go but obviously never got back to it. Dan and Kelly are lightly based on a couple that Bronwyn and I lived with. Even though this part of the story ends quite upbeat it still feels really dark to me – I know it wasn’t going to end happily and it brings back immediate visions of English streets for me.
Surf’s Up With Shaun – 1st February 1995
What is punk rock? Is it a way of acting or behaving? Is it about music? Or politics? Is it anything to do with THE SEX PISTOLS? Ог CRASS? Is it nihilistic or cynical? Optimistic, introverted or extroverted? Is it far-reaching + powerful? Small + exclusive? What do you think?
Well, when you live in the middle of a rainforest + the only rock around is sticking out of the earth, you start to think about these things. The answer is – it’s all punk rock, innit!
Cos I was sat on the beach trying to get my skin as bronzed as the surfies in the noonday sun (of course this isn’t true because if you have got any brains, you’ve got to cover up from the sun, or stick on your sun factor 15 but a lot of people don’t bother with this until a limb or two has to get cut off, so tell your kids OK!).
Well, I was on the beach checking out the surf (you see in Australia, the water is actually warm enough to go + swim in but you do have to watch out for sharks!) + watching the pelicans flying overhead + I was thinking “Man, this isn’t very punk rock is it?” and then I got to thinking “what is punk rock?” then pretty soon, I thought “Fuck it, let’s go for a swim”.
After that I went to the cafe + contemplated a bit more + I thought all the scantily dressed girls on the beach must be frustrated, cos all the surfies are interested in catching is waves. I checked out the surfies and hell, I saw me a couple of PANTERA t-shirts, a NIRVANA t-shirt and an OFFSPRING one too, so punk rock does exist here at the beach! I talked to one dude but gave up pretty soon, cos he’d never heard of MINOR THREAT, even though he skates!
Of course, this got me back to thinking about what punk rock is + I began to realise that, hey, it’s OK if that dude doesn’t know who Minor Threat is – he’s OK. I later found out he was well into conservation and abhorred racism, which is pretty punk rock for a sixteen-year-old surfie.
Sometimes, it takes me an age to realise the obvious and that I should have listened a bit harder when my best friend said “It’s all punk rock innit!?” So all you folks back in England can be satisfied that rock is alive + well on the other side of the globe + hey, they’ve even got bands here too + some are pretty good but man, it’s difficult to get away from the beach to get to see them sometimes!
One More Idea – 10th January 1995
The late-night quiet surrounds me
I hear echoes of the night’s conversations
Reverberating in my mind
So much to say, so much to live for
A million ideas to share
Still pouring forth, still formulating
Even now, in caffeine-induced insomnia
I sit there in my easy chair, looking at the clouds, orange with celebration and I wonder if you’re out there – 31st December 1994
Well, there’s only one place to go on New Year’s Eve and that’s the big city, so we end up at Libby and Dougie’s via Hornsby where P_ is looking after Ben and James (not that Ben needs looking after) and then on train to Cathy’s (remember you have to be mad to drive in Sydney and we don’t feel like it today which will be one of the busiest days of the year).
Cathy’s mad though and drives us into the city where we all settle into a long night of drinking cocktails, beer and champagne and smoking cones, playing party games and being too drunk to be coherent.
At nine or so I manage to convince everyone who can to come up the road to see the fireworks that go off in the harbour and on the bridge. They last for about half an hour and though our view is obscured slightly by a big gum tree they look magnificent in the dry night sky. The bridge we can see clearly though and that goes off with magnificent cascades and fountains of sparks imitating the previous storms.
We stumble back drunk and happy, high on life, chatting furiously and continue with party games and more merriment ’til time comes to wish each other a happy new year and we’re into 1995.
And the first thing I can remember of this new year is a glorious hangover.

One of these days it’ll all settle down – 30th December 1994
We ring England to speak to Chrissie to find out if she’s ok and we find them in the middle of a party, just like we remember and we can’t really hear much of what’s being said with all the noise going on in the background but everyone was fine and in good health by the sounds of it.
It cheers us up each time we get to speak to people back in England despite pulling at our heartstrings to be back there with them.
At last, a day to settle into our home and sort things out and drive to the shops to pick up groceries and small household items and clothes for Broni’s new job which will be strange after the last four months or so hanging out together virtually every minute of every day, now she’ll be away and I’ll be playing house husband, it’s been a real test of our relationship and one that we’ve completed easily, easier than we expected. To be with each other all that time shows our devotion and love and willingness to learn and understand each other, to adapt to our changes, so today with a few more weeks ’til we get married, we love each other as much as when we first met and travelled England those couple of years ago when the future was uncertain because I knew she wanted to come back home to Australia.
It’s good to be back in a car and one with a stereo and we fall in love with Camper Van Beethoven whose music suits the surroundings with it’s lazy quirkiness and lyrics to match, “everything seems to be up in the air at this time, one of these days it’ll all settle down, but everything seems to be up in the air at this time” and “just get high while the radio’s on, adjust the lights and sing a song, drive your car up on the lawn, let me play your guitar!”






