Thunder at 6am. Now torrential rain [30th Sept 2006]

Thunder at 6am. Now torrential rain. Winter is finally coming. I am autistic. I am Stephane in Un Coeur en Hiver. I am Will Penny. I am the Consul. I am Noodles. It was so good watching that Stephen Fry programme about depression. Even though he had just been to a party and was laughing and joking and was the life of the party, when he got home he cried his eyes out and thought of ways to kill  himself. Richard Dreyfus has only coped by being on medication for the last 30 years. Many people find it hard to cope with their minds.

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I am so ridiculously nervous about meeting -- again tonight. Most people have got lots of different kinds of relationships, as Sarah would say. I do not. I have only my longing for -- and nothing else. -- is everything. I just know how I will feel when I wake up Sunday morning with a hangover, depressed, so so empty, feeling so worthless and pointless because I am alone and without her. I dread it--yet what is the alternative? If I stay in and do not go, I will feel just as empty. At least for a couple of hours I will have the intensity of losing myself in the depravity, of diving deeper into darkness. Into the Libertines, Hogarthian, Crane Wine Menagerie world. What I did was perverse with --. I eventually got over the black psychological meltdown with Black Bob, I eventually got over the black psychological meltdown with Pooky, I eventually got over the black psychological meltdown with Susi and Irina. I suppose I will eventually get over the black psychological meltdown with --, but it is hard when temptation is always there, when she is so close. I am so unhappy, because I am alone, because I did not take a chance with --. Falling in love is awful. I have been bombed to ruins again. What is there for me to look forward to? Just writing with cold blue hands in cold stoveless rooms high in the icy mountains. Complete emptiness and hollowness. 

I was always the one who wanted to stay in the corner and not get involved. Fine.

Perhaps I will abandon the January visit to Berlin as well, and instead aim myself at April for Katarina Dalayman's Salome.