I went in Dionysus again on Wednesday (4th August 2006)

I went in Dionysus again on Wednesday. Absolutely lovely. How lovely it was to be in Charing Cross Station today. I really love Charing Cross. The way in Berlin I cling like a limpet to Berlin Zoo station, and in Munich I stay in the Intercity connected to the Hauptbahnhof, and in Vienna I stay in the Dorint opposite the Westbahnhof, and in Brussels I stay in the Ibis opposite the Gare du Midi, in London my whole life revolves around Charing Cross. I love the Upper Crust girls who get my tuna & mayo rolls ready for me, the Calcutta pub who get my cokes and beers ready for me. I took an incredible risk watching those porn movies in the hotel business centre the Christmas before last, before w--king in room 16. I have never been able to find out what that fantastic film was. I am sure it was a Christoph Clark but I have never tracked it down. Like that elusive E.E. Doc Smith Lensman book I read where the captain slides his hard hand down over F's breasts while they are watching a play together on board the spaceship. Before C goes to his room and disrobes. The best w--king of my life was the first nights I stayed in the Dorint Hotel in Vienna while I was en route to Oslo on my Munch pilgrimage, when I was in the blackest frame of mind of my life. The two things do go together. My greatest periods of unrestrained sexuality come at my times of greatest blackness & despair. I need to be low and black and destroyed. I feel like Munch in Christiana now. Too much drink and drugs and endless nights with scantily-clad women have overwhelmed my senses and driven me into a spiral of despair.

Sin, degradation and despair. But enough of the good things in life (8th July 2006)

Sin, degradation, and despair. But enough of the good things in life. I have become so used to you, I no longer like it when the other girls reply to me. I now only become erotically aroused when ignored. When I first talked with Lilith in free, she had no lipstick on, just those black eye shadow & black mascara eyes. After she was whisked away from me into private (maybe she keeps taking herself private to lure me in?), she came back wearing that blood red lipstick again, and looking so beautiful. This time I had to take her private myself. ************No sign of Lilith tonight. I have a quandary. I’d have to be as rich as Croesus to pay $20 a time just for four minutes of conversation with you. Yet you do not talk for free. So what is left? I actually look forward to Sunday night back at work so I can look for her again. Like Orphée into the Underworld.

I think I now see that Olga has always reminded me of Lydia from Despair (16th Nov 2006)

I think I now see that Olga has always reminded me of Lydia from Despair, and that was a great deal of her appeal to me.

How do I square the circle and get back to Munich again? Get back to Vienna again? (24th August 2006)

How do I square the circle and get back to Munich again? Get back to Vienna again? Seeing that Heidi Klum picture makes me think of it. Maybe that was my high moment in Munich, my City in the Autumn Stars moment, those three visits from October to January 2004–so long ago–and in Munich they will never come again. My high moment at the Bell was those nights when I used to see Sylvia all the time and at the Bell will probably never come again. Those high nights I spent at Carnival will never come again. You worry all your high moments are in the past. Certainly my last six or seven foreign trips have been dull, low-key, disillusioning affairs. It does seem, though, that all my high times come while travelling–apart from Sylvia. It is hard to escape that fact. That is why I live for travelling. And even during those last low, dull trips there were stand out moments, such as Clarisse in Brussels, Erika in Berlin. Yesterday was Sleeping Beauty is a Junkie day from 1999. Even last time in Berlin, leaving out the one night I spent there to see Prokina in Onegin & then Katarina & The Wild Hunt at the BEC, there was Alla & Olga, and Erika at Ciro, all on my last night. Being in love deadens all my high moments. All those months longing for Florence this year, and all those months longing for Olga before that. High times can only come when you are not longing for anyone, are free, and refreshed, and priapic.

Counting backwards, I think March 2005 was my last really high time, with Diana in snowy Berlin, in that claustrophobic stuffy grandeur of the Charlies Rennie Mackintosh bedroom. How vividly I remember coming out of BEC into the falling snow, my cock rolling in my trousers, to go back to Diana. At the time, I felt even that visit was not working. Before that in February was a similarly failed trip to Vienna (even though there was Maria and Harrieta), in January the failed trip to Munich (even though there was pink top blonde), before that the ruinous £2,000 Interrail trip to Munich and Berlin (even though I met Martina in Nuremberg, and Riccarda and Iga again), before that the cryingly sad reunion with Riccarda the White Angel of Death in Berlin (even though I discovered the Libertines), before that the devastating heartbreak of Viktoriya (after inital excitement of Patricia, Susi and Irina). Before that were the three great Rubicon-crossing Berlin trips, where I met Iga, Riccarda and Yulia, the last trips that really worked, and before that were the three Munich trips. Since that last good moment with Diana in March 05, there was the horrible one night in Munich for Poppea and Viktoriya, the failed attempt to see Von Weth in Lulu in Berlin, then Antwerp/Brussels Clarisse, Frankfurt Katerina, Berlin Erika and that last empty visit to Munich. By this time my debt had deadened everything,. There is no point going to these places where the Esmeraldas and Tallulahs are waiting for you, unless you can splash the cash. You are wasting your time and their time otherwise. You are depressed before you step through the door.

Florence has ruined the Bell for me, so it feels lovely to give it up. So it can be seen that when I fell in love with Florence was the moment the Bell was destroyed for me, and all those great nights with Sylvia were brought to an end. And when I fell in love with Viktoriya was the moment Munich and Berlin were destroyed for me, all those great City in the Autumn Stars nights were brought to an end. Falling in love ruins everything. How sad I remember being on ALL those trips I mentioned above. Why do I say I love travelling when the trips are filled with such sadness and despair? Because in the sadness and despair I still find jewels, and have incredible experiences, like Clarisse, Martina, Erika, etc, etc. And after all the sadness and despair is no different from what I feel at home. That is just who I am. I take it everywhere with me. Europe offers greater sensual pleasures that is all. The greatest moments have always involved the pornographic cinema or videokabins. It is almost a year ago I first met black dress Kay, what a sexy moment that was, as she stroked my cock with her hand, as the black guy put his huge cock in her mouth and other guy put condom on & fucked her before coming over her breasts!

I am unique. It is important to remember that (3rd August 2006)

I am unique. It is important to remember that. I am writer and eccentric, like Philip O’Connor, Friedrich Nietzsche in cold stoveless rooms, Ernest Dowson. I exist to write those extreme, bizarre, small little books, like Autismus, Black Narcissus, The Cold Icy Air of the Mountains, and Casanova. 45 page long monographs about emptiness and nothingness. Smile from Calcutta blonde: “No ice today!” I need to focus on Miami Vice, Rebels & Martyrs exhibition, classical music concerts. The sexiest encounters of my life were at the Barbican and Wigmore Hall. 

I travel uniquely, to Berlin, Vienna and Brussels. I live a bizarre and nocturnal life. I will continue to use Sunset Cinema and Demi and Pamela. There is nothing like that excitement when a man comes in with a woman and everyone crowds around with their cocks out. Day 1 of my new life starts here. No more Midnight Bell. The Calcutta only, followed by Sunset Cinema, Demi and Pamela. I will go to the Cotton Club only when Deborah is on. I am Ernest Dowson. Philip O’Connor. The Shining Roads will be exclusively in Soho. How thrilling it is to come out of the cinema with my huge cock rolling in my trousers, just around the corner to Demi or Pamela. Just getting the bus up Regent Street and along Oxford Street you see so many big breast women, making me ready for cinema even today. My life revolves around drinking & pornography. I want to take a long train journey again, thinking and writing.

I went in Dionysus again on Wednesday. Absolutely lovely. How lovely it was to be in Charing Cross Station today. I really love Charing Cross. The way in Berlin I cling like a limpet to Berlin Zoo station, and in Munich I stay in the Intercity connected to the Hauptbahnhof, and in Vienna I stay in the Dorint opposite the Westbahnhof, and in Brussels I stay in the Ibis opposite the Gare du Midi, in London my whole life revolves around Charing Cross. I love the Upper Crust girls who get my tuna & mayo rolls ready for me, the Calcutta pub who get my cokes and beers ready for me. 

I took an incredible risk watching those porn movies in the hotel business centre the Christmas before last, before w—ing in room 16. I have never been able to work out what that fantastic film was. I am sure it was a Christoph Clark but I have never tracked it down. Like that elusive E.E. Doc Smith Lensman book I read where the captain slides his hard hand down over F’s breasts while they are watching a play together on board the spaceship. Before C goes to his room and disrobes. The best w—ing of my life was the first nights I stayed in the Dorint Hotel in Vienna while I was en route to Oslo on my Munch pilgrimage,when I was in the blackest frame of mind of my life. The two things do go together. My greatest periods of unrestrained sexuality come at my times of greatest blackness & despair. I need to be low and black and destroyed. I feel like Munch in Christiana now. Too much drink and drugs and endless nights with scantily clad women have overwhelmed my senses and driven me into a spiral of despair. 

The sexiest encounters of my life were with girls at classical music concerts, while I was sitting in the back row–the red scallop neck girl at the Barbican, little brown bob who sat opposite me in the Barbican lobby, black fur coat at the Wigmore, the grey skirt lush in the Wigmore lobby. The erections I have got in art galleries! Especially the Brussels Museum of Modern Art and the Wiertz Museum–I have got to go back to Brussels this autumn! To the Modern Art, the Wiertz, the Cathedral, the Gare du Midi Pullman bar, it is such a morbidly erotic place, even before I get up to Empire and the Gare du Nord. I got great erections in Antwerp,too. And Munich Neue Pinakothek. Oh how erotic it is to be there during the day, going to the New Pin and Lamms, knowing it is just preparation for what I am going to do later–cross Bayerstrasse and round the corner of Schillerstrasse and disappear into the White Coffin. 

My heroes are Walter Benjamin, Karl Kraus, Friedrich Nietzsche, Karl Marx. I live everyday of my life now as if I am on holiday, just drinking and eating and w—ing. The gorgeous beer in the Calcutta, the gorgeous fish & chips in Dionysus, the gorgeous KFC in Leicester Square. The gorgeous tuna & mayo rolls in Charing Cross Station. When in Berlin I live for the knesepfannes in my hotel bar and the ham & eggs rolls in Thobens at Berlin Zoo station. In Vienna it is the alt wiener rostbratens in my hotel bar; I no longer go to Wegenstein's after the staff attacked me. I went back once but it is always so empty there, in contrast to the warmth & conviviality of Lamm's in Munich. I think I almost go to Munich solely so I can eat in Lamm's & have a glass of their ice cold Augustiner beer. I go to Berlin solely so I can eat the knesepfannes in my hotel & the Zoo Thobens rolls. 

Oh I so much want to go back to Munich! But where to stay–the Regent which I love for its bar, or the Intercity for its ease? I go to Vienna solely for the cold Zipfers served by the white shirted girls in the Dorint bar before I commence my afternoon of sightseeing, which usually means St Stephen's Cathedral, the Pummerin bell made out of Turkish cannons left behind after the Siege of Vienna, the Butterfly House, the KHM, the Belvedere and the Leopold. Always the same places. Sometimes I will mix in a few Third Man sites, like the Am Hof, and the steps where Harry Lime stood when the cat gave him away and we see him for the first time. I will not go into the sewers again.

Sin, degradation, and despair (8th July 2006)

Sin, degradation, and despair. But enough of the good things in life. I have become so used to you, I no longer like it when the other girls reply to me. I now only become erotically aroused when ignored. When I first talked with Lilith in free, she had no lipstick on, just those black eye shadow & black mascara eyes. After she was whisked away from me into private (maybe she keeps taking herself private to lure me in?), she came back wearing that blood red lipstick again, and looking so beautiful. This time I had to take her private myself. ************No sign of Lilith tonight. I have a quandary. I’d have to be as rich as Croesus to pay $20 a time just for four minutes of conversation with you. Yet you do not talk for free. So what is left? I actually look forward to Sunday night back at work so I can look for her again. Like Orphée into the Underworld.