I never connect with anyone (12th March 2006)

I never connect with anyone. I never want to become friends with anyone. I want to stay the stranger, alone & unknown. All the years I have been going to the Scotsman now, I do not know anyone there. I do not talk to anyone. Only one person has broken through my defences,and that was —–, and when she gave me my chance, I just let her leave without saying a word. She is nice to me still, but will never give me another chance. 

I should have been a week & a half, or even two & half weeks into my relationship with —– now. Instead here I am still shut outside the window, longing to be inside, but knowing it is too late. 

I am Stephane in Un Coeur en Hiver. I am Noodles. I am Will Penny. I am Edvard Munch. 

At this moment, I do not like anyone. I do not care about anyone or anything. I am bitter and nihilistic. “I have long passed the point at which one is seriously moved by hostile criticism of anybody in these questions or can feel any more than a tolerant contempt for the point of view from which it is uttered…God or the Flesh or the Devil—an artist may be in bondage to any one or other or all of these powers and retain his self-respect—but the world mustn’t, positively must not exist for him–or so much the worse for his art.” (Ernest Dowson, 1892). 

This is the anniversary of going to the dark opulent claustrophobic Berlin bedroom with Diana. Clarisse’s breasts in Brussels! Martina’s breasts in Nuremberg! Andrea’s breasts in Soho! I really so much want a girl with massive breasts again. Where can I find one? Travelling is out of the question for me. There is just the Berlin trip in May I am committed to, when I can see Erika in Ciro, and the sisters Alla & Olga. Maybe even Evalina in Golden Gate. It turns me on just thinking about it, but I will not be able to afford it in May any more than I can now. My financial situation is stuck in a downward spiral. It is getting worse not better. I would love to jump on Eurostar over to Brussels just to look for Clarisse in Empire, and check the Gare du Nord girls, but it is out of the question. Dowson frequently quoted Baudelaire, ‘Il faut etre toujours un peu ivre’. [It is necessary to be always a little drunk]. 

I so much want to search the clubs of Berlin again. I am aching for it. To meet a Diana, a Yulia, an Iga, a Riccarda, an Erika again. If all there is is Evalina and Maya, then I will fuck them instead. I still haven’t come with a girl since Maya in Berlin in October! 

I don’t want to be liked. I make no effort to be liked by anyone at the Scotsman or the Calcutta, the only two places I ever spend my time. Except —–. I am frozen. There is a wall around my heart. I was so depressed Saturday morning at work, and then woke up with such a black fist of pain around my heart, and then had —- and —– being nasty to me at the Scotsman. You carry the weather with you. I am fighting against the consequences of that Thursday night.