January 2, 2017 §
As you can see, I am obsessed with those nights I spent in Vienna, Berlin and Munich. It is like I am still living in them. I go back to experience them again but am disappointed. Those places have gone and I have changed too. The ice has retreated across Europe but the ice has retreated inside my heart, inside my soul, as well. Love is in my life now, and that has melted my great glaciers, my icy peaks, my icecaps. Now my rivers are starting to flow and surge, my empty valley beds are filling again, and my land is becoming green and lush, like Madeira. Yet still I keep thinking about those nights in Vienna, Berlin and Munich. I go back out of nostalgia, to see if there is anything at all of the old erotic breathless excitement I can squeeze out of them like a sponge. A few cold drops is all.
December 28, 2016 §
Now December is nearly here and the London air freezes my skin (-—- came in last night and was urging me to touch her freezing cold bottom and freezing cold breasts), of course I start to get the urge to travel again before Christmas. Berlin at Christmas is so beautiful.
December 28, 2016 §
Freezing cold air therefore turns me on. It brings back such strong memories of those nights in snowy Berlin, snowy Munich (the ‘night of the snow’ when Patricia told me that Bella Rosa loved me, and in shock I went to Emily who ran a cotton wool bud dipped in champagne around the head of my manhood; incredible, extraordinary memories!), snowy Vienna, searching for Tingel Tangels and Go Go Bars. The legendary night in Vienna exploring the whole western side of the Gurtel in thick snow and treacherous ice when I must have slipped over at least 20 times as the doormen watched me impassively. Every place a disappointment until I got back to where I started, and ended the night in Pour Platin next to my hotel, and finally lost my Vienna virginity to the amazing 10/10 brunette Maria.
December 27, 2016 §
I had legendary nights in Soho, and legendary nights in Berlin, and in Munich, and in Vienna; but it is perhaps wrong to think things are so bad when I go now. In a couple of years the trips I am making now may also come to seem legendary. It is like coal; your experiences only become rich when years of other experiences are pressed down on top of them. That is how diamonds and rubies and all the other precious stones and minerals are formed.
December 26, 2016 §
I remember going to Berlin in 2004 and between leaving my mother’s front door and opening the front gate I had developed an erection, so easily turned on was I in those days! And I wasn’t disappointed when I got there. I think that was the trip where I met Yulia and lost my Berlin virginity in that black James Pryde bedroom above Stutti Frutti or Hanky Panky or Mon Cheri–-I was too drunk to remember which. And, I don’t mean to be crude, and I know it sounds terrible, but at one point she was on all fours on the four poster bed, and I honestly don’t know whether I put myself in her front bottom or her back bottom. I still wonder about that to this day. It was incredibly dark in there. Such was the ice back then!
December 12, 2016 §
The building on the corner of Berwick Street and Peter Street I used to see Siberian Olga (and Romanian Lela) in and sit with her on Saturday nights drinking vodka with as she decided which customers to open the door to, is now gone; a new building gone up in its place and occupied by a bike shop, with perhaps some aptness, I don’t know. The building opposite the Red Lion (where Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels were tasked to write the Communist Manifesto at the second Congress of the Communist League in 1847) where I used to see Spanish Ana Maria is now gone, and still remains just a hole in the ground, which may also have some aptness. The Astral Adult Cinema in Brewer Street (the first pornographic cinema I ever went to) is gone. The Carnival Striptease in Old Compton Street (the second strip club I ever went to) is gone. The Boulevard Striptease (third strip club I ever went to) in Brewer’s Court is going next month apparently. Already at my young age I have lost so many of the places where I had my erotic education. As the Soho places closed down, I spread my wings (to use a euphemism) to Europe, and even there my treasured places are mostly gone. Stutti Frutti where I lost my Berlin virginity to Yulia in that black Rennie Mackintosh bedroom with the four poster bed, Mon Cheri where I fell in love/longing with Riccarda in the same claustrophobic room, Golden Gate where I fell in love/longing with Iga, Hanky Panky, Starlight, have all gone. In Vienna, Pour Platin where I lost my Vienna virginity to Maria (still my only Vienna consummation), is gone. In London these places are really over for me. In Berlin and Vienna at least there are still plenty of other places to try.