You make dust from sand – 17th January 2018

Each night shift I usually head out for my second coffee at around 10.30pm.  Obviously, there’s no coffee shops open but luckily the OTR service stations are 24/7 – their catchphrase is ‘We never close’.  Their coffee is not great but the caffeine quota is perfect.

There is an OTR about 15 minutes walk from the office so I can get a little exercise for bonus points too.  The first time I went there I just followed the main road which was a little dull and unexciting, as trucks roared past on their night runs from warehouses to stores and others returned home from their evening adventures.

I looked at the map and found a parallel back street that is a million miles away from the dull orangey-yellow flourescence of the main road.  The street lighting here is whiter and paler and mostly blocked out by trees.  Some places are pitch black underfoot and you have to step heavily to avoid tripping on pavers raised by the roots of the trees.  The other thing you notice is the quiet.  No one is around, not even cats seem to bother with this street.  You get a nervous excitement when someone else is walking on the street, will I get stabbed or punched or who knows.  I generally call out a ‘hey’ as I pass and usually just receive a surprised grunt in return.  Oh well.

Halfway down is one the opposite side I usually walk, there is a graveyard.  I didn’t think too much about it until one night I decided to take some pictures.  Some folks had decorated their relatives graves in Christmas lights which offers a jolly juxtaposition.  I considered how some people find graveyards spooky but I think that is a result of the gothic architecture of some of the memorial stones.  I mean what could happen here – everyone is dead already.

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There’s a nice graveyard near where I live.  Actually, Adelaide seems to be full of graveyards when I think about it.  Anyway, this one is almost like a landscaped park, sectioned off to cater to different ethnicities, cultures and religions.  Not so much of the olde Euro-gothic stonework.  I had a nice walk around there one evening, only saddened when I came across a marker for someone who had died young.  I thought about the lives these people lived, what they may have seen, which parts of the world they came from to get to Australia.  I used to look at people in random non-descript places, walking the street or wandering the shops, and zap myself into their heads and try to look through their eyes and take on their entire histories that brought them to this place, right here, right now.  A momentary flash of an existence that someone else lived, though nothing you can hold on to and maintain.  Now I mostly just ponder my own existence and how someone I never met or knew might browse my death mark one day and wonder about my life.  Round and round we go.

I was reminded of the times a few of us used to hang out drinking in a graveyard in Bournemouth before we would head to see a show at Capone’s just across the street.  The time when we had finished school forever and took our old textbooks there, burned them on an old grave and then got drunk to celebrate our freedom.

But down this street there is little sign of life and to me, it is the perfect playground for childish mischief.  But no kids are about, no underage drinkers in the park or graveyard, barely a barking dog or passing car.  Is everyone tucked up nice and early in their neat clean houses, living the dream?  Will I be doing that in my little piece of paradise being built in Thailand?

Talking of which, Amy was overrun with paint charts today, having to decide tonight the colours that would be in and outside our house.  She asked my opinion, and I’m pretty easy, so I just said paint everything inside white.  This is far too boring for her but she can’t tell if any colours that she does choose will work because it’s just too hard to imagine right now.  Again, as a typical man looking for a quick solution, I told her to choose what she wants and if it doesn’t work out we can just repaint it later, no problem.  I think by the time she went to bed she still hadn’t picked anything for the indoor colours.

Sleep in safety – 14th January 2018

After my last night shift ended on Friday morning I managed to force myself to stay awake until about 5pm, with the aid of cheap coffees from the local service station.  I chucked down a couple of Panadeine in the hope they would ensure I didn’t wake up wide awake at 2am and they worked a treat.  I’d forgotten to take my alarm setting off from last week so I was gently awoken at 5.50am to a mellow Beastie Boys tune.  I picked up the phone and noticed Amy had sent a message whilst I was asleep.  The message was a little disconcerting:

“If I died tomorrow just do what you want to do OK.  Life is just today we don’t know what will happen.”

I still wanted to sleep some more but these words tumbled in and out of my consciousness.  What motivated these words with no context at all?  There was nothing I could do to answer this question right now and eventually I fell back to sleep for a few more hours.

Later she called me after she had just woken up.  She sounded sleepy but happy.  I asked her about her message and she told me she’d received some bad news about her school friend Fah.

I’ve met Fah a few times on previous visits to Thailand.  An attractive girl who loves to eat and drink in nice places and works for Thai Airways.  Last year she complained of stomach aches and went to the doctor to have some tests done.  They discovered she had cancer and that it was quite advanced already but still hoped to be able to treat it with chemotherapy.  She started that treatment but was often not healthy enough to be able to do it.  The bad news came this week that they found the cancer advanced to her pancreas and that is was untreatable.  She might only have 6 more months to live.  6 months ago she was fine (as far as she knew).

Amy said Fah’s parents were with her at the hospital in Bangkok and I mentioned how tragic it is for a parent to have to watch their child in pain and to lose them.  Amy told me that Fah’s only sibling, her brother, was killed in a car crash years ago when he was just 11 years old.

I thought of my mother and how I hoped that she wouldn’t have to go through anything like this.  She already lost her husband, my father, when I was just 18 months old.  I thought of my son and how I hoped that I wouldn’t have to go through anything like this too.

Amy and I agreed that she should go and visit Fah as soon as possible.   There’s nothing one can do, nothing one can say, except to give each other comfort.

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It’s interesting to be posting my old diary entries – I haven’t read them since they were written.  I can look back at certain events with a more distant eye and reflect on what my true motivations were at the time and ultimately how trivial they seem now that they are in the past.  It was so serious to me at the time.  I guess that’s the wisdom of age.

Right now though, I’m struggling with concentration and direction.  I can’t get all my thoughts out quick enough and will have to come back and try again tomorrow.

The City Of The Dead – 6th December 1995

On the back of the city they ride
The demons attack from each side
Despair weaves its path
Through the warmest of hearts
Eating away at your very soul
Cold wings flutter about your face

Can you feel it?

Greed winds its way in
Through the thickest of skin
Til everyone is touched
And the big sell is a rollercoaster ride
Straight to hell

We’re all part of it

Death lurks each street
Searching for souls to eat
With a big wide grin across its ugly face
Along with despair
To lay good men bare

Have you had a taste?

Disease runs riot
When people lie quiet
Its foul stench forcing you to wretch

Can you taste it?

Madness takes a grip
Follows your every trip
Through the torture and torment of lies
The cries are of woe
As we watch people flow
Down and down into demise

A terrible Christmas – 31st December 1993

As midnight approached, there was a drought of happiness. Instead, a flood of tears, uncontrollable sobbing.

I sat on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the cold chill of winter. It was two days ago that we were sitting here quietly sipping our coffees, Bronwyn still tending to my last few days of chickenpox. Oh yes, it has certainly been a terrible Christmas.

The phone rang and Bronwyn got up to answer it and I was hoping for a friendly voice for me to set upon my story of terrible illness, oddly proud of my survival and hardship. I wish that had been the case.

By her voice, I knew something awful had happened. It sounded like….like someone had died. She called me through her choking and sobbing.

Thoughts raced. My mum? Not my mum!

Bronwyn said, ‘It’s Rob.’

‘Oh, thank god, ‘ I thought, ‘it’s not Steve.’ Or did she mean that it’s Rob on the phone? Oh, those few seconds are so clear, all those thoughts whizzing around as I took the receiver, Bronwyn too distressed to talk.

‘Steve passed away from a heart attack, the day before yesterday.’ WHAM! It was, as you’d expect, like a ton of bricks.

The veil of illness over me immediately lifted.

*Madness Of Insanity – 31st December 1984

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
I’m not insane
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho
I’m not bad
Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee
It’s not me brain
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
I’m just mad
Ha ho hee ha

The Week That Was 1984 diary

Photo: original import sticker from Black Flag’s Damaged album on Unicorn

31st December 1984
See next diary

Live groups of 1984
Confessions of Sin
Cult Maniax
Subhumans
Self Abuse
Conflict

Live songs of 1984
Self Abuse – Loose
Confessions of Sin – Loose (esp. at Capones)

National Insurance No.
NP 30 09 66 A

Phone numbers
Julie Roberts
Paul Chambers
Andy Anderson
Justin Butler
Simon Bradbury
Dave Brown
Amanda Brown
Jane Seabright
Kathryn Smith
Zoe
Liz Jennison

The Week That Was 1985 diary

Allergies: DEATH

Records of the week: Ruts – Staring at the Rude Boys, Subhumans – Rats
Last song of the year: Cult Maniax – Morphine Mary

31st December 1984
Built a new reception area. Mr. Grainger’s being a cunt but I went at 4. Went to Houldey’s. Dandy and Beki weren’t there
5

1st January 1985
Got up 12. Not much on TV. Not done anything in particular. Cat’s still scared to come in my room.
5

2nd January 1985
Cleaned out the Mezz floor. Fucking knackering day at work. Went to Youth Club. Stayed by myself most of the time. Getting better at darts.
4

3rd January 1985
Cleaned out the Mezz floor. Ringo Chubb are playing on the 11th in Poole. Could’ve fallen asleep at work. Went to Houldey’s. Dandy didn’t seem to notice that I’ve changed for her.
6

4th January 1985
Cleaned out the Mezz floor. Fucking knackered. Moved all shit from Mezz floor. No Youth Club. Went to Muz’s. He’s still being a shit.
5

5th January 1985
Went to town with Mum. Saw Burdett but didn’t say anything to the cunt. He’s still one of the lads. Track’s iced over slightly.
5

6th January 1985
Got up 12.30. Did this and that. Hoovered my room. Went out – no one about.
5

Death Is A Part Of Life – 5th September 1984

Death’s become a part of me
I’ve decided upon reality
Cos reality is dead – death is reality
Someone screams from an open room
As heaven sings
And angels loom
Playing their sweet strings
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Knocking on your door, a kiss of heaven’s breath
Finally decided, now’s your time of death
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Pinpoint the danger and you’ve solved the problem
Now you must decide on how to absolve them
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Reality is dead and so am I
At least I chose the way I’d die