January 5, 2017 §
When people are trying to hurt you there is no need to try to take revenge on them. I am a great believer that the universe will exact its revenge on them. The universe has the scales, and will always seek to redress the balance when a great wrong has been done to you. Van Gogh did not need to get revenge on those who were so vicious to him; Oscar Wilde did not need to get revenge on those who were so vicious to him; it is Van Gogh who is the most famous and loved painter in the world now; it is Oscar Wilde whose plays fill the West End, and has his statue opposite the Charing Cross Hotel, and his window (stained inevitably) in Westminster Abbey. No one knows the names or cares to remember those small stunted people who tried to destroy Van Gogh and Wilde; the universe saw to it that they won in the end. All those years when people were so vicious to me, threw themselves at me like wolves, smashed their brains out like moths against a blazing lighthouse, punched themselves to exhaustion like George Foreman against Ali so that I could then just start to pick them off, I never needed to take revenge. I knew I would win, and they would lose. The universe always watches and knows where there is right and where there is wrong, and soon adjusts the scales. That is why I worship Justice Palaces so much, and get more emotional in front of the great Justice Palaces, such as the Palais de Justice in Brussels or the Justiz Palast in Munich, than I do in any Cathedral, though Cathedrals move me, too. As do Bourses (or Central Banks), such as the Bourse in Brussels, or the Bank of England. A pound in my pocket will buy me one naked dance from a stripper; £20 will buy me a ten minute tryst with a Soho model; €60 will buy me half an hour with a Berlin floozy in Mon Cheri’s black James Pryde bedrooms. So Bourses represent to me the power to buy Eros. To open up the gates of lustful pleasures. It always amuses me that I can pick up the No.76 bus in London outside the Waldorf Hotel in Aldwych and it will then take me past the front doors of the Royal Courts of Justice, St Paul’s Cathedral AND the Bank of England.
December 11, 2016 §
I used to fall in love with Soho whores on a regular basis, I can quite believe Prince Eddy falling in love with a Cleveland Street whore. I fell in love/longing with Siberian Olga, Swedish Pamela, Romanian Lela, Spanish Ana Maria, can never forget massive-breasted Greek Andrea. For gentlemen of refined tastes, the lure of these florid and lurid women of the fleshpots is quite addictive. If you have got money to spare it is so tempting to indulge yourself with these butterflies and Esmeraldas of the salons. And in Berlin I fell in love/longing with Berlin blonde Riccarda, Polish Iga, in Munich with Romanian Emily, Ukrainian Viktoriya, Slovakian Susi. I have spent my entire adult life falling in love with Esmeraldas and Tallulahs (whores and strippers). I have come perilously close to marrying several of them but managed to escape with my life by the skin of my teeth every time.
November 12, 2016 §
Lisa and Alice at the —– are like two great voluptuous Romanian opera singers, in florid and lurid make up, but they will get naked for you and sit on your face.
November 11, 2016 §
For me stripping and sex is just part of art; it fits in with paintings, classical music, theatre, opera, it is just part of the continuum. A great opera singer on a stage in florid and lurid make up, a great stripper on a stage in florid and lurid make up, a great whore opening the door in florid and lurid make up, great oil paintings, lush strings of an orchestra amidst ferns and fronds. It is all the same. And each one reminds me of the other. A perfect day would combine all of them together.