I have been waiting all these months to travel again and now the day comes I feel no enthusiasm for it whatsoever

November 24, 2016 § Leave a comment

I have been waiting all these months to travel again, and now the day comes I feel no enthusiasm for it whatsoever. Gorgeous — brunette getting off the bus in front of me and then in front of me all the way to the Eurostar entrance; black leather jacket, blue jeans over gorgeous little sexy bum. I wonder where — is now? How I wish I had done something with pink top blonde on the plane to Munich. I wonder if I will ever have an encounter like that again. If I will ever have a great high night like Yulia, or Riccarda, or Emily again. I don’t think I am capable. Illicit thrills no longer seem to do anything for me. I have been there and done it, to death. Yet I cannot just stay in London for the rest of my life. I have to keep looking for the ice. The cold icy air of the mountains. How excited I am when I buy the tickets; how unexcited when the time comes to actually travel. We will see if this trip to Brussels sparks me to life at all. Think I should have gone straight to Berlin.

“To stand atop the Jungfrau and feast the eyes on a white world of snow and ice is an experience akin to high drama”

October 27, 2016 § Leave a comment

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“To stand atop the Jungfrau and feast the eyes on a white world of snow and ice is an experience akin to high drama.” This was how my first visits to Munich, Vienna and Berlin felt, back in 1999 initially and then intensely in 2002-2005. I felt like a mountaineer in the ice and high mountains, though my peaks were erotic and sensual in nature. The Eurostar from Brussels and then straight on to the night train on the long 12 or 14 hour journeys to Munich Hauptbahnhof, Vienna Westbahnhof or Berlin Zoo, before the pace and frequency of my visits quickened and I relied on air travel. Those years were my Golden Age. In New Year 2006, however, I fell in love, and I lost four years in the pursuit of my beloved, followed by two years of marriage. From the sublime to the ridiculous! Tentatively, over the last year or so, I have begun to return to my travels. I cannot help it, I love the thrill of travelling alone, to feel the cold icy air of the mountains again. It is shocking to discover how much that ice has retreated and vanished it is true, but still there is a thrill to travelling alone, that extreme solitude, that I cannot give up. My wife thinks I have a mistress in Germany. I do not. Now I travel again to Munich, the town of Franz von Stuck. Seeing his Die Sünde, this black-haired temptress with the black boa constrictor around her neck, was one of the most shockingly visceral moments of my life. It is the Munich Mona Lisa. Sometimes when crossing Europe, I will divert to Munich just to see her again. Some of the greatest nights of my life have occurred in Munich, those ‘high nights that persuade us to put off suicide’, which is quite hard to believe sometimes, as the sensual landscape of Munich is quite tame and conservative compared to Berlin or Vienna where anything goes. The air on this plane smells like someone has shit themselves; in fact it smells like everyone has shit themselves at the same time. Quite overwhelming!

I need to feel the cold icy air of the mountains again

October 26, 2016 § Leave a comment

I need to feel the cold icy air of the mountains again. I have to be totally alone in order to feel truly alive. To be loved feels to be less than alive.

In a hundred years people will look back at Trotsky in Wonderland and Trotsky Through the Looking Glass, Edward Symmons and The Stripper, as an incredible record of life in London and central Europe in the years from 1996 onwards

October 6, 2016 § Leave a comment

In a hundred years people will look back at Trotsky in Wonderland and Trotsky Through the Looking Glass, Edward Symmons and The Stripper, as an incredible record of life in London and central Europe in the years from 1996 onwards. The strip clubs and brothels of central Europe, the great strippers and whores of London, Berlin, Vienna, Munich and Brussels. Autismus, Lotta, The Cold Icy Air of the Mountains, Casanova (Lost Wanderings), The Double Life. A Baedeker for the gentleman connoisseur of bosom and buttock, of stage dancing amidst great ferns and violins. I have always believed I am creating a great body of work that will have importance and relevance, and my intuition is rarely wrong. My intuition told me that —– was the one for me despite her being so patently out of my league and wanted by everybody and me never even having had a proper girlfriend before. My belief in her was unshakable and I was right. That was the first miracle. It gives me encouragement that the second miracle is attainable too. When Pepys was writing his diary, “I went down to the shipping office today to pick up some letters”, not many people would have seen much value or interest in that, but now, 200 years later, it gives us an unsurpassed window into how life was in that era. Writing is like coal; at the time the words are laid down and the ink is still wet they have little richness, but as they sink down into the past, and have layer after layer piled on top of them, they acquire richness, they turn into coal, diamonds, and oil. One day the Trotsky books will be viewed as having an incredible richness and significance.

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The great thing about my four books

June 30, 2016 § Leave a comment

The great thing about my four books, and now the first 8 pages of my fifth, is that they are full of passion, and truth—the psychosis of AUTISMUS, the longing for Lotta in LOTTA, the breaking through the barriers of THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS, the tiring of travelling and falling in love of CASANOVA. It all rings so true and is dripping with passion, truly written in blood and tears. The preparing to go to Vienna is now going to be such a big part of the new book. The visit itself will probably pass without a word—I shall not have time.

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