December 4, 2017 §
Yes I miss those nights at Atlantic City and Sexyland and Golden Gate & Mon Cheri & Monte Carlo & Ciro & Pour Platin and Empire and the Scotsman and Sunset Strip & Cinema, but you cannot keep doing it all the time. You cannot do it every week, 52 weeks a year. Yes I am missing out on all those experiences and all those heady nights and all those new people like Janet or Martina that might be arriving—but it is great to have some months when you do nothing, and then have some months when you go back to it. You have to deny yourself some things for a while, in order to enjoy them again. The longer I leave it the more I will appreciate it when I go back to my Pope life, my Francis Bacon life, my George Grosz life. The Broken World. The Shining Road. Once again I pore over the weather forecasts. For signs, auguries, of when the right time will be to resume my former sinful profligate life. I divine things from the weather. My sexuality is linked to the weather as much as it is linked to finance and to justice and to cathedrals. I will indulge my sexuality when the weather indicators are right, and the financial indicators are right, and the scales of justice feel right, and when in the cathedral it feels right.
November 30, 2017 §
I love the scientific analysis of my life, like Nietzsche. In Nietzschean numbered paragraphs. Like the Rhine Zeitung newspaper articles of Karl Marx. Like the Die Fackel magazine articles of Karl Kraus. Apocalyptic, messianic, satirical. All of them supposed to have some Jewish blood in them, as I have Irish blood in me. This is not possible when I have drink in my head all the time. It is also true, that some of the high moments of my life have come in the Astral Cinema and the Boulevard Cinema and the Sunset Cinema. Remember that big mullet haired guy who pulled his shorts down all the way to his ankles & sat there with a tube of soap or vaseline, regularly applying it to his cock in the Astral. Remember Red Riding Hood night when I sat for six hours in the front row of New till I was raw & practically passing out from the smoky, fuggy, sticky, lubricious atmosphere and when I finally left I crossed deserted Leicester Square in the lashing rain. Remember black dress Kay in the front row of Sunset sitting completely naked as black man put his huge dick in her mouth, businessman with trousers round ankles put condom on & fucked her, before “monicering” her over her tits, all the time while she stroked my cock with her hand. Remember red bra girl in the Sunset. Not to mention the highs I have reached in Berlin Erotic Centre, or Sarah Young, or Atlantic City or Sexyland kabins, or ML Revue cabins, or the Brussels Gare du Nord cabins. M—– said she wanted to go with me to the opera & I stayed away from her. Pamela hinted she would like to go to the seaside with me & I stayed away from her. —– said she wanted to go out with me & on that Madonna Hung Up and Beyonce Check On It night, when G—- thanked me for the postcard, I let her go. I do not want to go out with girls. Going out with Chess Goddess and Lotta were horrible stressful experiences and like Jason Bourne I was checking sightlines and looking for exits the whole time. The happy, magical nights I have had in the crowded bearpits of Sunset Strip, Gold Dress Gold Shoes girl on The Beast December night, Jolanda Red Right Hand, or Flying Scotsman Sex on the Beach, Sylvia Walpurgis Night, Tais Lola, Janet Material Girl, or Atlantic City. And they are only any good when they are crowded bearpits. Remember how crowded the Atlantic City cinema used to get when the girl came on to strip just once an hour? They are only good when the men are screaming at the girl on stage as like beasts in the menagerie. Yes, it will be too soon to go back to Vienna but the thrill of being in Vienna in December…? Yes, I do not want to go back to the drunken, tiring Flying Scotsman but it is very special to see —– dancing to Shakira or Gnarls Barkley…? Afterwards I could come back to Charing Cross on the 91 and then get a 176 up to Tottenham Court Road tube to walk down to Sunset Cinema. I will start to allow myself every Saturday off as my Hogarthian night. My Rake’s Progress night. My Frank Wedekind night.
November 28, 2017 §
Counting backwards, I think March 2005 was my last really high time, with Diana in snowy Berlin, in that claustrophobic stuffy grandeur of the James Pryde bedroom. How vividly I remember coming out of BEC into the falling snow, my cock rolling in my trousers, to go back to Diana. At the time, I felt even that visit was not working. Before that in February was a similarly failed trip to Vienna (even though there was Maria and Harrieta), in January the failed trip to Munich (even though there was pink top blonde), before that the ruinous £2,000 Interrail trip to Munich and Berlin (even though I met Martina in Nuremberg, and Riccarda and Iga again), before that the cryingly sad reunion with Riccarda the White Angel of Death in Berlin (even though I discovered the Libertines), before that the devastating heartbreak of Viktoriya (after inital excitement of Patricia, Susi and Irina). Before that were the three great Rubicon crossing Berlin trips, where I met Iga, Riccarda and Yulia, the last trips that really worked, and before that were the three Munich trips. Since that last good moment with Diana in March 05, there was the horrible one night in Munich for Poppea and Viktoriya, the failed attempt to see Von Weth in Lulu in Berlin, then Antwerp/Brussels Clarisse, Frankfurt Katerina, Berlin Arrica and that last empty visit to Munich. By this time my debt had deadened everything. There is no point going to these places where the Esmeraldas and Tallulahs are waiting for you, unless you can splash the cash. You are wasting your time and their time otherwise. You are depressed before you step through the door.
November 27, 2017 §
We are entering the dark world now. The witching months. The world of Sneaker Pimps, and I Am X. The Shining Road world. I will stay away from M— and J— as long as I can, so I can go back with a real taste of blood in my mouth. I will stay away from Demi and Pamela as long as I can, so that I am wanting them so much. Tenseness, eroticism, and repulsive pathology. I want to recapture the “innocence” of my first days sinning. When every visit was exciting. When everything was an illicit thrill. I am entering a dark place in my life again. Once more I am diving deeper into darkness. Just a little bit of abstention makes everything seem more alive again. Just a little bit of continence makes everything taste stronger again.
November 26, 2017 §
I have got £13,500 credit and I owe £5,900. With this Vienna holiday that will increase temporarily, but so what? It is just like taking out a loan. I have taken out a £5,900 loan which I will pay back when I come back from Vienna. And with this loan I am doing amazing, extraordinary things. Burning bright like a firefly. You have to push yourself to the edge. It is only there that you can observe things & record your observations. I am excited about going to work from now, because my journey to Vienna has already started. Remember how I always used to enjoy going to work because it was just getting me through the two or three weeks till I could get back to Munich again, or get back to Berlin again, or get back to Vienna again? Am I really spending hundreds of pounds going all the way to Vienna just to have sex? The sex with the Vienna and Berlin whores is more expensive but it is better. They will do anything. Remember how Yulia, Riccarda, Maria, Diana, did absolutely everything? You do not get that in Soho. Once you have paid your 100 euros you do get an absolutely mindblowing experience. Now watching the Alizee J’en ai Marre video I know why I travel. If I had never travelled I would never have seen that video. If I had not gone to Berlin and bought the Observer that Sunday in the Café am Zoo I would never have discovered the Libertines. If I had not gone back to Brussels I would never have discovered Elena Prokina. Travel enriches you so much. Just as the flat costs me a lot of money but it would be a false economy to give it up, so travelling costs me a lot of money but it too would be a false economy to give it up. That night coming away from Katarina & her Wild Stallions with such a huge erection in my trousers it still had not gone down by the time I crossed the leaf-carpeted Ku’damm. Meeting Clarisse in Brussels. On a wild goose chase to Nuremberg to look for Viktoriya I met the incredible Martina with the most enormous breasts I have ever seen in my life.