I am pretty far gone, aren’t I? Look at my face, the bags under my eyes. The way I cannot talk to people. I am like a drug addict. I have disappeared so far inside myself. It is almost impossible for me to be in a room with other people. I am like a wild child. No wonder people often think I am on drugs. I am a revolutionary at work. I am carrying out a revolution. A subversive one. A Situationist revolution. I am carrying out a Situationist revolution against the whole of society around me.
It is fantastic to be in a pornographic cinema when a girl comes in. Of course I will keep going to Sunset Cinema after the Bell, prior to Demi. Sex, sordid, sleazy sex, illicit thrills, Godzilla sex, vampire sex, is what I live for. Companionship is not possible, for I am a dead man, a ghost.
My books are my revolutionary texts—AUTISMUS, LOTTA, THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS, and CASANOVA (LOST WANDERINGS).
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