Of course I cannot travel to Berlin in the New Year. Especially when the one I love is behind me in London

December 5, 2017 § Leave a comment

Of course I cannot travel to Berlin in the New Year. Especially when the one I love is behind me in London. Alone, alone, alone. Always alone. I have always been alone, and I always shall be. And yet travelling can mark the end of one period of your life, and when you come back you can find everything feels different, and you feel very liberated from them. Maybe after going to Berlin I will feel I can start again and turn over a new page, which I will not do just by staying the whole time in London, trapped in the same routine, silently morosely standing in the back corner of the ——–, longing for —– and never even going over to talk to her. This year has been ALL about —–. That would be a good title! ALL ABOUT —–.
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Addicted to opium and alcohol. I insist on the primacy of my own experience

December 3, 2017 § Leave a comment

Addicted to opium and alcohol. I insist on the primacy of my own experience. My own vision. I can only be alone. I can only be in cold icy mountains.mountains-2

I wake up alone and how do I feel about that? Fine. There is no one I want to be with. I am so happy to be alone and free

November 30, 2017 § Leave a comment

I wake up alone and how do I feel about that? Fine. There is no one I want to be with. I am so happy to be alone and free. I feel pain gripping my chest, though, in the middle of a cricket dream, I’m the captain of a Test team and not feeling up to it. The pressure is enormous. Richie Benaud and Geoff Boycott are out on the boundary and taking catches and we all rush to congratulate them. I feel stressed because I have got to go back to the flat early in order to force myself to get to the Rebels & Martyrs at the National Gallery, and I have become so used to not going out, not doing anything. I have retreated so deep into my own little world, almost a hibernation, and liking it. Those drunken addictive years to strippers & whores seem so far away. It is so nice to be curled up small & protected. But always I fear everything being torn down, invaded, ripped away from me. As always I expect the great flood any moment and having to gather all my things together on a raft and starting all over again.

Who would I want to be with now? No one. I am happy to be in bed alone. And yet I am very lonely. I feel cosmically alone

November 23, 2017 § Leave a comment

Who would I want to be with now? No one. I am happy to be in bed alone. And yet I am very lonely. I feel cosmically alone. Again in the Calcutta—Monkeys From the Ritz to the Rubble on the jukebox—there was a sexy little brown bob thing sitting opposite me as I sat in the box seat, black top, black miniskirt, showing a lot of thigh. It was sexually exciting. I only had two. It is never the same when I have got my bag with me and I am travelling home. I am sure I will stay longer Friday. How lovely to go to Brussels for four days and just do NOTHING. I like to go to places where I can do nothing. Just sit in the Pullman getting drunk while watching the girls pass. Just sit up on O’Reilly’s balcony watching the girls pass. Just sit in the window of Café Belge watching the girls pass. Maybe the Radisson SAS, too. It is true, this money I am saving I must use it to pay off the £6,000 debt because in October the Virgin interest is going to cripple me. And yet, I read of university students leaving with £12,000 debts and I think mine is not so bad, when I have got a secure (?) job I really like.

Maybe I will die like Ernest Dowson through drink and self-neglect. Maybe I will be killed by my enemies like Lorca and Kaspar Hauser

November 11, 2017 § Leave a comment

Maybe I will die like Ernest Dowson through drink and self-neglect. Maybe I will be killed by my enemies like Lorca and Kaspar Hauser. I am a Lost Boy, like Peter Pan. Falling in love with a succession of Young Mothers. I was discussing philosophy with a Russian Esmeralda once, and when I told her I liked Nietzsche best, she recoiled, “Oh Nietzsche! I hate Nietzsche!” Why? “Because he hated women!” As Nietzsche said, women make the highs higher, and the lows more frequent. My only contact with women is with whores and sex dancers. That is the world I live in—like a Van Gogh, or a Ravel, this is quite normal. Conventional relationships are no more possible or even conceivable for me than they were for Van Gogh or Ravel, or Nietzsche. “You see, an artist has to be very careful when he wants to marry someone, because an artist never realizes his capacity for making his companion miserable. He’s obsessed by his creative work and by the problems it poses. He lives a bit like a daydreamer and it’s no joke for the woman he lives with. One always has to think of that when one wants to get married.” (Ravel to Manuel Rosenthal). So of course we Lost Boys must rely on the Esmeralda, and the sex dancer. The world of drink and opium, of stocking & suspender & feather boa! The Hour of the Flesh! As Flaubert said, “the sight of a whore is profoundly thrilling to a man”. A good woman could never save me, because I would just withdraw, withdraw, retreat back away from her, into my inner world, of words, of transcendence, of detachment, the unreal life. I can only be alone.

It is true though that I love those long train journeys across Europe. Just to spend some days alone with my thoughts and my pen and paper

January 22, 2017 § Leave a comment

It is true, though, that I love those long train journeys across Europe. Just to spend some days alone with my thoughts and my pen and paper. Perhaps I can enjoy one last Grand Tour of all my favourite places, before I retire from it. Oh but then a year later I will want one more Grand Tour just for old time’s sake, and it will never really end. I don’t know if I can really give up the solitary travelling. It does fulfill some need I have for solitariness. Like Helmut Kohl once a year would take himself off to a health spa. Last year I travelled to Europe four times and spent a total of 12 nights away from home, away from ——. 12 nights to myself out of 365 is not much is it? Perhaps I should allow myself just one Grand Tour a year, and in that tour go to all my places in one go. That is the glory of the Inter Rail Pass. If you are bored in one place, just jump on a train and leave sooner than you planned. If you stop off in another place not planning to stay, but find something amazing to detain you, just hang around longer than planned. That is why going on holiday by plane and just flying from A to B then back home to A again is so boring. Yes, let me allow myself one Grand Tour a year. Then I can just dip into northern Italy for a day or two, just dip into Switzerland and the Alps for a day or two. Get little tasters of those places I have always wanted to go to but will probably never have the time or money to ever really explore as much as I want. If I allow myself one Grand Tour a year, I will be free to go to as many beaches and clear blue seas as —— wants the rest of the year, to try to erase my guilt and shame at leaving her alone! See! I have already talked myself back into travelling alone!

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