January 21, 2017 §
To turn my back on the ice and high mountains, on the glaciers and the Jungfraujoch, and turn instead to white beaches, clear blue seas, steaming palmhouses. To leave behind the bar of the Berlin Plaza, the Rechthaler Hof restaurant in Munich, the Café du Dôme and Brussels Grill in Brussels? Already the doubts set in! But I love —– too much and hate leaving her behind too much. Of course I can still enjoy some small pleasures in the hothouse, sultry atmosphere of London in summer when —– is busy.
January 8, 2017 §
I want to travel in ice and high mountains again; I want to set sail on stormy seas, and leave this safe port that has made me so soft; I want to sail once more through narrow channels between sheer rock cliff faces like Jason & the Argonauts, with the risk of being crushed at any second. Danger is my middle name. I thrive on danger. I thrive on danger, and masturbation. These are my fuel. Funnily enough just a little bit of research shows there are quite a few strip clubs in Munich—or tabledance clubs, that dread, dead expression—all within quite easy walking distance of the Hauptbahnhof and the Intercity Hotel, not just Atlantic City in Schillerstraße and Sexyland in Goethestraße; but I don’t think I will bother, still. I like things to be really close to me, so it is easy and convenient and Atlantic City and Sexyland are just so easy to cross the road and stroll across to, across all those cris-crossing tram tracks. How hard it is for an Englishman to step on tram tracks and not constantly think they are live! How many Europeans must come to England and electrocute themselves on tube or train tracks as they are so used to tracks that are not live! How many Europeans who stand waiting for the green man before crossing a road even if no traffic is coming must be absolutely shocked and horrified when they come to London and see how people just plunge into the hellish traffic and expect it to brake and swerve and avoid them!
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 30, 2016 §
The Menzelstraße peepshow was miserable, but next to it was a shoe shop which had so many boots which I thought —– would like, and that is what I am excited about returning to. Doesn’t that show how I am changing? I get more pleasure out of doing something that might make —– pleased than anything else; than any of my old delights. I remember in February 2005 when I went to Vienna in thick snow, and I walked down the Gurtel from top to bottom, and there were so many places to go into (all rubbish but still), one after the other, till I finally settled in Pour Platin and Maria. But now, have they all gone? It seems like. It really does. Or maybe I am not going far enough up. This is how the ice retreats, until there is almost none left.