The Calcutta was very packed even for a Friday. I had 3½ pints before going to the Wigmore. To be honest, Frittoli was more voluptuous than I was expecting, in a three-layered black dress covered with silver diamante patterns, and I had to revise my plan to leave at the interval. She was gorgeous and fantastic. A special honour to see her and yet in my mind I conflated her and -- together so it felt I was looking and worshipping both of them at the same time, while I muttered away still talking to --. I was reminded very much of the Prokina night when she turned and looked at me at the end. "I still love him". I had a Becks in the bar downstairs, much-changed!, while reading about Pete and Kate. I will perhaps go to Sunset tonight after the Bell, if the Bell is no good. If I leave the Bell quickly I won't really be spending anything extra...? I have got my £69 gas bill and my £136 TV licence renewal bill in! Forget Berlin in the New Year. Though I think a lot about Alla. I have to keep drinking and living madly like last night. Then I can potter around town with a silly drunken smile on my face muttering to --. Better than staying in doors brooding and crying and feeling suicidal. I wish to destroy myself with drink. I plan to drink myself to death.
I never even noticed, last night was Egon Schiele night. Things always start to become more erotic from this point on. Today is the first anniversary of being in Frankfurt and getting train to Nuremberg for the great Saturday night at Caribic and that girl in the Pils having her stockings mauled by that man. It is the third anniversary of going with Maria in the Brussels windows before going to Munich and meeting Susi the next night.
As I was leaving the flat last night, the little blonde Polish bob had just come in & was checking her postbox. She did not turn around but I said hello anyway and she turned around with such a big lovely smile & said hello back & she looked so gorgeous & I was glad I did something friendly. I was rewarded by meeting English teacher and Greek girl on the bus & having a good night in general. The more you give out the more you get back. It is difficult when you are in the depths and coils of a depression, but I hope to meet my Rilkean turning point, and bounce back. Given her flowers, Frittoli bowed low & all the rainwater from the flowers spilled onto the stage. Everyone laughed & she pretended to shower the front row with it. When she came out for her encore she very exaggeratedly stepped round the water & pretended to slip over. A true star, reminding me of Jochen Kowalski catching the bouquet with one hand at the Komische Oper.
As I entered the hall the ticket girl smiled at me "we are sold out so no one can cheat" and we grinned at each other. You will not get out of your depression by being moody and cold, you will only do it by being warm and friendly, and trying to smile and be nice to people, and then get warmth back. November 18th looms hugely on my horizon. In the meantime if I do not see her at the Bell I know I can always go back and have a good night at the Sunset.
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