November 8, 2016 §
A freezing icy mist descends on Munich as I leave. Omen that an Ice Age is returning. Oh but there was no real dirty eroticism on this trip. That came when I made eye contact with —- or —-, back in London.
October 26, 2016 §
Not only will the end of my marriage perhaps bring the Ice Age back, but it may bring our love back to how it used to be. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but absinthe makes the tart grow fonder. I cannot understand love without obsession. I can only love from a distance. I can only love what I cannot have or have lost. That is why I have always been drawn to Tallulahs and Esmeraldas like the moth to the flame, because I knew there was nothing real in it. There was longing, and painful desire, which could not be requited or consummated, and whenever it was, then I had to make my excuses and leave. I could not follow them into that place. I flirted with wanting a real relationship with them, but then when they gave in and offered it to me, I ran away scared. I flirted with rescue when I had no desire to be saved. Like Peter Pan, I climb back out of the Darling family’s window, and return to my Never Never Land, looking for more Young Mothers, but there can only ever be one Wendy.
October 26, 2016 §
I think I enjoyed strip clubs so much because I was like a starving man, and to a starving man even crumbs are like a feast. If I could go back now and see those girls I remember so fondly, I think I will wonder how I ever liked them. I sometimes get the feeling I need to starve myself again, so I can recapture my old thrills. To walk away from warmth and comfort and love, to make myself cold and lonely again, that is the only way to feel alive again. But that involves sacrificing so much, even giving up the greatest gift any man could be given. If I make myself cold and lonely again, then the ice will return to the planet. I have always believed I effect the weather. To bring back another Ice Age may be my greatest goal.
July 9, 2016 §
I want to investigate the notion that the web has killed eroticism. For that I would need to be alone, and spend a lot of time in Vienna, Berlin, Munich and Brussels. It seems the scene has died everywhere, London Soho and Berlin, but maybe it is me that just changed when I became a family man. When I left R— on Twelfth Night I saw vistas of complete freedom open up before me but just a few hours later before the end of the night those vistas were closed off again. But I love her. If we split up, the Ice Age would envelop me instantly. All love, comfort, tenderness, affection, cut off like a switch. She would be vicious in enjoying her new single life.