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!

Another call from Olga as I lay cutting up my newspapers (9th July 2006)

Another call from Olga as I lay cutting up my newspapers. I let it ring out, but immediately felt guilty, & texted her back “Oh Olga”. This time I answered. “What you doing Wednesday & Thursday? You come swimming with me?” “Maybe.” “Maybe, or yes?!” “I don’t like swimming, but I like you.” “All right, we will just go outside somewhere.” Thursday. I feel excited. She always turns me on. I always want to lay with her and f–k her. I have loved her since the first time I met her. It has been almost two years now.

Then there is Florence, who I am still addicted to. Then there is Lilith. “When you put your face close to the camera, it is like the greatest thing in the world. It is like the opening bars of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony. Something great has just occurred. Like Norman Mailer wrote about Last Tango in Paris. When Marlon Brando first meets Maria Schneider in the apartment & without warning reaches down & rips her knickers off in one movement, the sound of that tear is as great a moment in Western civilisation as the opening Da-da-da-daas of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony. It is lunacy but beautiful lunacy. When you put your face next to the screen, it is as great. You say you do this for connections. Yet you don’t see the point. Maybe just not with me. You are on a different level to all the other girls. You are iconic. I am scopophile. Erotomane. If you don’t talk, you become a fetish object. We gaze & gaze at you. No one else would be worth gazing at. Your face is addictive. There is more going on in your face & eyes than all the other ‘models’ put together. Men look, and women are looked at. I cannot believe there is anyone on the entire web as worth gazing at as you. You glow in the dark. Like the tip of your night-time cigarette. And the men gather to you, like moths around the flame. And if their wings burn, you know you’re not to blame. Marlene Dietrich. Years ago, I used to go to old cinemas and gaze up at her face like I do to yours now. They say her glory was all down to the lighting. It is clever the way you light yourself as well. You just show us your face & shoulders, and lit by a spotlight. None of the other girls do that. I can scroll down the list of online girls so quickly knowing your face will leap out as soon as I get to it.” Every meeting with Olga is so charged and erotic.
Every meeting with Florence is so charged and erotic. Every meeting with Lilith is so charged and erotic. Demi, too. Melani. To an extent, Sandra, Helen.