The Vienna visit feels like such a waste when I have nothing particularly to go for except that it will be Christmas. At least in Berlin I have got La Traviata and Carmina Burana to see in January, that is the hook I can hang the visit on, and in April I have got Katarina Dalayman’s Salome. But Vienna seems pointless and totally obscenely extravagant when I am already so much in debt and probably by then paying such huge interest on it. What other chute moments have I had? The American girl on the Eurostar to Brussels. That ruined my entire four day stay before I got there. I could not get over it. A crippling indecision what to say and inability to act meant I let her just walk away from me and killed myself. The pink top blonde on the plane to Munich. The crippling fear is that once I start talking to them they will realise I am not the man they thought I was from looking at my pretty eyes and sweetness. Once I try to get involved with a girl, my total inablilities in that area become exposed, as they did with Lotta and Chess Goddess, when normally I keep them so well covered up by my silence and my reticence, which attracts them and lures them in. Florence hushed me with a gesture when I arrived, that is her revenge for me turning away from her when she tried to say “It is nice to see you again” last time. And the last time she collected she didn’t just hold out her jug, she plumped both elbows on the bar and leaned there next to me as if this was an invitation for me to say something but again I just put the pound in without a word and she quickly turned and left. It is like it took her so many months to lure me out of my shell, and now I am never going to let her lure me out again. I have crept back under my stone and I am going to stay there. I had my chute moment with Chess Goddess too, that is why I left a trail of blood along the Exhibition Road. And of course with Pooky, that led to the psychological destruction during my trip to Oslo. When you are going through a psychological meltdown people seem to sense it and rush in to give you a kick while you are down. It is like a joyous, gleeful feeding frenzy. Indeed people are like wolves to me. As they were to Kaspar, to John Merrick, to Van Gogh, to Oscar Wilde after his imprisonment. All these beautiful, sensitive, gentle people were absolutely ripped to shreds by gleeful, vicious society.
I feel an almost physical revulsion at the thought of going back to Cotton Club and Demi and Pamela. But what else is there, so I will eventually. When I know the pleasures I have felt in those places felt so intense. I feel a physical revulsion for going back to those nighttime Vienna places and the nighttime Berlin places. I feel a physical revulsion for spending any money when I am in this saving mode. That is good. I have become allergic to spending money when before I seemed addicted to it. I feel an almost physical revulsion for women. I am a strange man. How can Florence or anyone have a relationship with a strange man like me. I am like Ralph Fiennes's Spider. I only learnt how to be alone when I was a baby, and I always will be. I love places where I can be alone surrounded by loud pounding music and naked girls, that is why I love the dream world of the Bell and the Cotton Club so much. It is the ultimate detachment. The ultimate transcendency. The ultimate lens. The ultimate gateway to the state of bliss that is the Kingdom of Death. Ultimate nothingness. Florence’s finger to the lips in a hushing gesture seems a very big moment. That nervousness so intense I cannot breathe as the train nears Nuremberg & as I got off and walk along the corridor to the entrance hall, and the nervousness I felt so intense I could not breathe as I went down the steps at the Astral, I now feel when I walk to the Scotsman from the north from the 91 stop. I feel it too when I enter Sunset Cinema, hoping to find a woman being monickered, and also when I go up the models’ steps. That is the high. That is the drug.
I feel an almost physical revulsion at the thought of going back to Cotton Club and Demi and Pamela. But what else is there, so I will eventually. When I know the pleasures I have felt in those places felt so intense. I feel a physical revulsion for going back to those nighttime Vienna places and the nighttime Berlin places. I feel a physical revulsion for spending any money when I am in this saving mode. That is good. I have become allergic to spending money when before I seemed addicted to it. I feel an almost physical revulsion for women. I am a strange man. How can Florence or anyone have a relationship with a strange man like me. I am like Ralph Fiennes's Spider. I only learnt how to be alone when I was a baby, and I always will be. I love places where I can be alone surrounded by loud pounding music and naked girls, that is why I love the dream world of the Bell and the Cotton Club so much. It is the ultimate detachment. The ultimate transcendency. The ultimate lens. The ultimate gateway to the state of bliss that is the Kingdom of Death. Ultimate nothingness. Florence’s finger to the lips in a hushing gesture seems a very big moment. That nervousness so intense I cannot breathe as the train nears Nuremberg & as I got off and walk along the corridor to the entrance hall, and the nervousness I felt so intense I could not breathe as I went down the steps at the Astral, I now feel when I walk to the Scotsman from the north from the 91 stop. I feel it too when I enter Sunset Cinema, hoping to find a woman being monickered, and also when I go up the models’ steps. That is the high. That is the drug.
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