October 21, 2016 §
But the world of Tallulah and Esmeralda has provided all the richness to my sad, lonely young man’s life, and I am eternally grateful to it, and I will always love all the strippers and whores who gave me so many high nights of most exquisite pleasure—from the high-stepping Welsh brunette with red boa at Sunset Strip who always, always, always danced to La Vie En Rose, to Swedish Pamela in Soho, Berliner Riccarda in Berlin, Martina in Nuremberg, all of them, I revere and worship them all. For me the word whore is far from being a pejorative—exactly the opposite. They have kept me alive, and enriched my life. It is just sad that all the beautiful ones have now gone, as the ice disappears.
July 17, 2016 §
I am totally sated with Tallulah now. I feel I know all of the Tallulahs in London by name, and they all know me, and they all know I am with —–, so there is no mystery or sinful seduction left in that sphere. It used to be the thrill of a curtain opening and anonymous unknown women disrobing and dancing for you, but now it is like watching my sisters or —–‘s sisters dancing—totally unerotic. This is what makes me wonder if there is any jolly to be found back in the old world of Esmeralda, but my initial searches have been profoundly discouraging. Interesting to wonder if I will find anything at all in Vienna to whet my jaded appetite. To be really turned on again by a stranger! Is it possible for me? I don’t think so.
July 6, 2016 §
I can say I want to go back to seeing Esmeraldas again, but I went to Brussels and there was absolutely no one I wanted to go near, and I went to Berlin and there was absolutely no one I wanted to go near. I am sure Vienna and Munich will be the same—maybe I just need to sink back into it. Dipping my toes in will never work. It has to be all or nothing. I want to keep spending more money I do not have, and keep going to Europe, and keep meeting Esmeralda. Tallulah is boring to me now, I have exhausted Tallulah, I cannot remember the last time Tallulah excited me. Those great nights at Carnival, Boulevard, SS, even — in the early days.
June 9, 2016 §
It’s like the retreat from Empire. How does a nation feel when it’s had to give up its Empire. It is hard to readjust. From being so powerful and omnipotent, able to do whatever you wanted and nobody could say anything, to having to now fit in with everybody else. It is like Britain giving up Hong Kong. It is hard to accept it is over. So I keep going to T&E, a little bit, becoming increasingly angry and unhappy at myself for doing so. How to make this retreat bearable and even exciting: document it.
June 9, 2016 §
If I’m in a strange city, or even in my own, I always feel more comfortable and relaxed in the red light districts. Even if I’m drinking in a normal pub, I like it to be next to a strip club, I feel so much more at ease. Tallulah and Esmeralda calm my soul. To do something naughty, and cross some line, is so exciting and so relaxing, even if, or perhaps especially if, one is married to someone deeply loved. Like soldiers returning from the first world war taking morphine to cope with the pain of their wounds but then becoming addicted to the morphine, my response to despair was pornography and prostitution; when the despair passed and I became happy I remained addicted to the pornography and prostitution.
June 2, 2016 §
There is some fine tittature on the island of Madeira. Emperor Karl would have had a pleasant exile here. Don’t forget the Dorint was the best masturbation of my life. Madeira. Magnificently green. Magnificently breastal. I am afflicted by a kind of breastiality. I am an animal for big breasts. Infidelity repulses me but as soon as I see big breasts I am mesmerised as if by Dr Mabuse and just walk towards them with wide eyes and hands outstretched, even if my wife is there with me. I want to keep writing about Tallulah but I don’t want to rock my wife’s boat.