199th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Thursday August 1st, 1999 13:34PM
Subject: RE RE I’m actually feel a little guilty

And now I don’t feel guilty at all...what’s wrong with me…it was so good to see you today…

god sex is good for guilt…

it’s funny isn’t it…we’re being dishonest in every way…but honest to each other…it’s like we’ve crossed the line and once it’s crossed we can do whatever we want…

So with this in mind - do you want to go out and kill a homeless person?

Hey I was also thinking…I reckon I went to your bookstore a year ago...

I’m certain of it...

Were you working there a year ago? I think you served me (as you do now – wink-wink)

197th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Wednesday July 31st, 1999 22:21 PM
Subject: I’m actually feeling a little guilty

Sorry Dom, only just got your email...servers been down…been driving me crazy…I thought you might have emailed and I kept checking every five minutes…

Anyway back online now…

Well today was meant to be uneventful…was going to try and compose some music…that didn’t work…beginning to think that maybe the music thing isn’t for me…

it didn’t help that my mother rang to tell me my father had been in contact about the blunt assessment I made of him a couple of weeks back…she thinks I should be more sensitive…but come on, he’s a terrible father…and really I should have nothing to do with him…

…it also really worries me that she always defends him…I mean he cheated on her…

Anyway this stuffed my whole creative spirit and any attempt to write lyrics always had the touch of Plath about it…here’s an example:

“Why do I scare you, Daddy?

I’m small and harmless

Why do you scream when you see my, Daddy?

People say I look just like you…”

So indulgent, it drives me crazy…

So I went for a walk…before I knew it, I was near the city…I thought about walking to the University to see you…didn’t even need you to see me…just wanted to see you…through the window would be fine…

but as I got close to the edge of the city, near Roma Street…I saw Elsa…I think it was Elsa…she was in this car…in the passenger seat…talking to the driver…stopped at the traffic lights…

we made eye contact in that brief moment and I saw something in her face…something like she knew…or I knew…or something secret…I know that seems vague…but that’s the best I can come up with…it was if we understood each other somehow in this brief moment…

…but as I said…it might not have been her…

Anyway this event made me think of you more…and suddenly some lyrics popped into my head…

“In the ocean there’s this buoy

I cling to him in timeless sight

He has a little red light on top of his head

That helps me find him in the blackest night”

Got a melody for it too…I think it’s a little chick-folk…but perhaps with some grunty guitar behind it it could be an ironic pop song…

Fuck…what do I know? It’s probably shit…

Are you at the Uni bookstore tomorrow? I can pretend to be a customer if you like and you can show me something by Henry James while we chat about our infidelity…

I think I’m feeling a little guilty or something…

188th email

From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Tuesday July 30th, 1999 11:26 AM
Subject: RE Close shave

That’s quite unnerving and a little exciting. Kinda like going back to a restaurant after getting a bad does of food poisoning because you really love their duck.

But you seem okay now; yeah?

Elsa was a little suspicious when I got home too. She was put out that she wasn’t invited to dinner. I stressed that it was impromptu. She stressed I could have called her.

I fudged it by saying it could’ve been awkward considering the status of your – whatever it is with Marcus - because another couple might have only reminded them of the good times.

Oftenbark rolled his eyes at that one.

So did Elsa.

She thought I simply didn’t want her around; she felt she didn’t fit in and she admitted that it’s hard to keep up with the banter sometimes.
She then had a bit of a melt down. She feels she’s not intellectually up to the group and they laugh behind their backs at her.

Now I know this it not true. But man, I felt guilty. Cause in a way you and I are laughing behind Elsa’s back.

I came so close to telling her about us. But Oftenbark barked at a car back firing in the street and the moment was lost and I returned to my role as Captain Sympathy to deal with a fast approaching War Ship called the HMS Self Dread; canons loaded, taking aim but missing. Just.

(Okay - went off on a lame metaphor there – sorry – back to literal. Message to self: If I’m going to be poetic be certain I have the text)

Back to Elsa:

Feeling guilty, I took action against Elsa’s worry. I suggested we have a party. Our place; on the weekend – and we can invite everyone - her friends, my friends; everyone.

I can’t believe I suggested it.

So do you and Marcus want to come over to our place on the weekend?
(Of course I’d really like to see you sooner)


Dxx

PS And I have to ask, and I hate myself for asking it, but did you – you know – you know – with Marcus?