267th email

From: Dom Borax 
To: Stacey Marchenkova stacey_marchenko@hotmail.com >
Sent: Sunday October 26th, 1999 4:11AM
Subject:  Everything closes at 2:00

Hey drlaing, how are you? I am a little druink - sorry

See, evrytnhing closes real ealy here which I don't;l understanf. Kinda weird, I reckon. Cause you just end up wandeinr the streets looking for somewhere to party which I did and found a place some guy I dn’t know but a nice guy he had some wine and a nice balncony so we talked for a few hours before3 I wante d tpo come home.

Then  I walked the streets for a bit and got back to this hotal that I have to miove out fo soon. I can’t keep usinga my dad to pay for me. I have to find an apartment – maybe that guy I met tonight could let me live with him - that would b e good.

God I don't know it dion]t think sio – I don't even know him he might be a killer or another wirter of a actor or even another PA – that would be woerd  - I don;’t think I ciold take that –

Not afyteter this week. It’s been awful. I’m noit having a good time here, stace’ I tell you. IT’S not the city of dreams it’s not. It’s lonely wuith weird values. It’s a company town – it’s just sells oil or bauxite or whatdver theose company towns sell.

Whioch is ironic as they actually wan t to sell human drama but it only sells it in bottles and boxes. Not really selling it. Actually the real drama is such a bad idea or a poison or a virus or something that if it’s really touched the town will fall to hell.

Anwyhows I hope you had a noce weekend. Glad to read that you spent some time with my fokks – they’re nice people not like thwt people here who are so not nice.

And don’;t let me mother get to you – she can do that mother trick of making it feel like its all your fauly – but it isn't – I will rign yher tomorrow –m even from work – fuck them, theyt can take the expense for some happiness occasionally – you know what I eman – I mean they give me such unhappiness that maybe one small call to hoem  is actually a really cheap price to pay for such lashing and lack of caring and shit.

Gotta go now…gfee;ling sleepy and not sure what I;m writoing, I still love you by the way,.

Doim

266th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova  
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent:  Saturday October 25th , 1999 19:51PM
Subject:  My day.

Dear Dom, your folks invited me over to tea today…it was really nice…we sat in the sitting room and drank a Harrogate blend…Yorkshire Gold…and ate some homemade biscuits…it was charming…Oftenbark curled by my feet and your Dad told a story about taking you to see Wages of Fear at the Classic Cinema in East Brisbane….I remembered that you said it was one of your favourite films based on a number of criteria…

1: You’d seen it a number of times.

2: It was entertaining and exciting.

3: it had just the right amount of snob factor.

4: It was your father’s favourite too so it had heritage and grand sentiment.

I told your folks about this and your father laughed…warmly I believe… and then asked if I had seen the film…I admitted I hadn’t and before you know it I was watching the film with your father while your mother made us a roast…

I can’t tell you how lovely it was…and how much I loved the film…I mean the first hour is a little slow…but I understand why it’s there…and though that sounds like a criticism…after watching the whole…the first hour needed to be there to truly understand the desperation and the lethargy of the central characters…

So 5 out of 5 for me…

As are you…

Anyway thought I’d also mention when I was leaving your mum asked me if you’d been a little out of contact lately…I said you had but prefaced it with an understanding of your heavy workload…she nodded taking it in before maternally manipulating that she just gets a little worried sometimes…so it might be worth giving her a ring one evening…just to let her know you’re okay…

Love ya

Stacey

265th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova   
To: dom borax
Sent:  Wednesday October 21st , 1999 11:36AM
Subject:  I tried not to write…

…but I can’t help myself…I can see it’s going to be a few more days before you write…

Thank you so much for ringing…it was just what I need…it was such a surprise…so nice to hear your voice…and I will try and not be a needy girlfriend…and I understand that it’s a big deal for you…but sometimes I need a little more…but knowing you understand that...helps…

and I hope you don’t mind that I email you…

Going to bed now…

Love

S

264th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Sunday October 18th , 1999 23:12PM
Subject:  Paranoia

Now you of all people should know about paranoia…how dare you speak to me like that…you’re one of the most paranoid people I know…can’t I be worried…I know this is the last thing you want to read…I know you asked me to be patient…but as much as you need time to get to the bottom  of your own art…I need time to be worried and concerned…I’m not sure…is this an ultimatum?

Please don’t let me wait a week before responding…

261-263rd email

From: Dom Borax 
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Friday October 16h, 1999 8:12AM
Subject:  RE RE Where are you

I am such a shit boyfriend. I’ll be back soon. Please be patient.

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax
Sent: Saturday October 17th , 1999 10:32AM
Subject:  RE RE RE Where are you?

Dom are you okay…? It sounds like you’ve been kidnapped…are you being held hostage..? If so how much are they demanding…let me know…I’m sure your parents will come up with the money…Oftenbark will beg for it too…I’ll sell everything including my body,,,

…please let me know you’re okay…that your fingers are all present…that your being fed a little…and that there’s no danger of you falling in love with your kidnapper…

Okay…better go…

twangs of jealousy emerging…

green Stacey becoming…

logging off now before it gets too late…

From: Dom Borax 
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday October 18th, 1999 23:1PM
Subject:  RE RE RE RE Where are you?

Hey Stacey, no, I’ve not been kidnapped. I’ve just being worked to the bone.  And again as always, I apologize for my distance. But you have to let me be with this, Stace. 

It’s so hard trying to get this work done and pander to your worries at the same time.

It’s just too much. Trust me this is not a diss’ but I need you to understand that my silence has nothing to do with you. I simply have no time.

Gotta go. Sorry and speak soon. And don’t be so paranoid. There’s nothing to be paranoid about.

Dxxx

261st email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax
Sent: Tuesday October 13th , 1999 9:12AM
Subject: RE Hey where are you?


Okay I refuse to be worried – this is normal…you are busy…I’m busy too…see I’ve been trying to fall in love…

…with the city again…

my city…

Brisbane…

but it’s failing…the more I wander it…the more I hate it…it seems in stasis...not sure it’s because the empty-nesters are flocking to the hub and the hub responds by becoming a large suburb…not sure…

… all I know is the independent coffee houses are going…the cult retro cinemas are closing…small bars once filled with long term drunks are closing…and the tiny squares where the anarchic youth used to chat about changing the world are bursting with the new youth crimping and posing…

There is a sense of Asian influence however…the Asian students are flocking to the city and holding up in apartments overlooking the casino…Korean flags wave from the balconies while below gaggles of kogal girls strut the streets in cream sloppy socks…

Even the buildings are changing a little, I guess…brighter multi coloured lights shine in various patterns from the office blocks at night…and contrasting shapes creep into the skyline silhouette via the younger architects who threaten to take the floor…

And in the streets…the boys open mobile phone stores and the girls open trinket-thingy stores…side by side they marry a new sense of culture while small arcades now burst with mummyless children eating katsu curry and reading their books backward…

So this I love…I guess…but is it enough, I wonder…I don’t think so…for I don’t think it will win…which is a shame…because Brisbane could become a true Asian city…and this would give our river town a sense of identity in this country…but I don't hold much hope… the old school country mentality won’t allow it, I suspect…the anti daylight saving brigade will enforce their august exhibition ham sandwiches down our throats until we gag and smell so much of pig and fuck off that even the strongest willed tourist will find it hard to make it past customs…

So there you have it…that’s me…seeing hope across the shores but held back by tradition…longing for the colour and the different tastes but left with cold Sunday drippings…trying to fall in love with my city again…but failing…ever so…failing…


Love ya

Stacey

260th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Monday  October 12th , 1999 10:31AM
Subject:  Hey where are you?

Really where are you? I thought you’d email over the weekend…but you didn’t…are you okay?

I hope you’re okay?

I hope you haven't been hit by a bus because it’d blow up if it went under fifty…

I hope you haven’t been robbed and left for dead at the Griffith Observatory by a robot man from the future…

I hope you haven’t died of old age on top of the Bradbury building with a dove in one hand and a nail in the other…

Anyway…if for nothing else email me and let me know you’re okay and not lost like tears in…(you know the rest)

254th - 259th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:01PM
Subject:  Still frisky

Do you have a suggestion of how to help said friskiness…?

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:21PM
Subject:  Going nuts

...cause the tension in my joints is mad…need to distract myself…

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:31PM
Subject:  Just punched a hole  in the wall…but

…really focused on you…thought of you…dressed like a man of authority…standing at the foot of my bed…

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:31PM
Subject:  Your hands are strong…your voice controlling…

…you say my name…my mouth dries…my stomach aches…I haven’t eaten in weeks…

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:31PM
Subject:  I’m so hungry…

…and even, crushed and broken…my jaw shattered from your embrace…

…I eat you…every bit of you…it hurts…muscle and bone snaps…but in the end there is nothing left and I am full…just for a little while…

From: Stacey Marchenkova    
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 23:54PM
Subject:  Done, honey…done

…and ready for sleep…good night…

252nd and 253rd email

From: Dom Borax 
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Thursday October 8th, 1999 21:35PM
Subject:  RE RE RE RE RE change of topic

Hey Stace, don’t do that. I accept your apology, really. That’s all I need.

And it’s damn sweet that you’d consider coming to see me. That’s so cool.

But it’s not worth it. Really.

I’m just having a tough time at the moment. I’m just trying to work it out.

And sure it would be easier with you as puzzle wing-man – just to ease those moments with an offer in a glance that means; “Don’t worry, that simply doesn’t make any sense at all.”

But I don’t need you in person to do that.

I can imagine it.

I can imagine you there with your dark eyes – peering over your glasses, blinking with those lashes. I can see vividly that selling everything you have to be here in person would simply just exhaust you needlessly.

Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. If you were here, I would hold you so tight that I could possibly crush you to death.

And perhaps for that reason alone you should stay safe and alive on the other side of the world.

Because as much as I want to feel our bones break I know that kissing you after would be awkward.

So hear me, darling - I’ll be fine.  Trust me.  I’ll win in the end. And when I do you can come visit me then as a king of this town, as a victor of this city, as a man of the Angels.

Yours crushingly

Dom

From: Stacey Marchenkova  
To: dom borax
Sent: Thursday October 8th , 1999 22:17PM
Subject:  Well…after reading your last email

I’m frisky as all get out…