I am so tired & jaded of London now (23rd Nov 2006)

I am so tired & jaded of London now. I must instead go & get drunk in Brussels & Berlin. Reacquaint myself with Karl Kraus, and F Nietzsche. 

All that matters is my bleak books, written in blood, with blue hands in cold stoveless rooms around Europe. My studies in solipsism, the visceral pleasure in detachment of an autistic person. Autismus. Lotta & Sophia. The Cold Icy Air of the Mountains. Casanova. 

I have moved beyond —–, & Olga, and am free of them. Now the travelling starts again. To write my books in Brussels, Berlin, Munich and Vienna. 

I will run up such a debt I will no longer be able to go out in London, will just pay all my money on my credit card repayments & interest. That is OK. I will go back to drinking in my mother’s house & the Calcutta, while listening to the songs that remind me of travel, until I can travel again.